All For You
by TheAlmightyPrussia
Summary: Pru/Au: Gilbert's presence has become even more threatening to Roderich's sanity lately, but will some interesting information from Ludwig be the perfect blackmail material?  Or, will Roderich realize the real reason for Gilbert's motives?
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Okay, so I haven't been as active as I'd like to have been in the Hetalia fanbase lately. So, here's to one of my favorite pairings that needs more love (:**_

_**Pairing: Prussia/Austria, side Germany/Italy  
**_

_**I absolutely adore Prussia's character. Hopefully I'll be able to do him justice in my writing ;_;  
**_

* * *

Roderich Edelstein was a patient man, really.

For being several hundred years old, he could think of multiple instances that could make that statement true. He had survived the Seven Years War (it was a very long seven years, mind you), both World Wars, and the anxiety and fear of being captured by Ivan only a couple of decades ago during the Cold War. And the last time he checked, he still had kept his cool, and was perfectly sane.

Although he seemed constantly on edge to those who knew him, it took a lot to make Roderich completely snap. Unfortunately, a certain silver-haired albino knew this, and was determined to be the first to accomplish that certain feat.

To drive Roderich crazy was something that Gilbert Beilschmidt enjoyed with a passion. Though Roderich would never admit it out loud, the red-eyed Prussian was one of his major stressors, and one of the few people that threatened his sanity on a daily basis. Of course, now that Prussia technically didn't exist anymore, Gilbert had all the time in the world (literally) to annoy the Austrian to his wit's end. And just when Roderich thought that he couldn't possibly think up any more ideas to frustrate him, he'd walk into the house to see Gilbert's latest catastrophe.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what had just happened recently.

It was nearing four in the afternoon, and Roderich was dead tired. True, the UN meeting was only in England, but the shouting and arguing and the lack of control made his head ache. It was all the same things as usual, though – Alfred's ego, Arthur's and Francis's fistfights, and Feliciano's lack of any attention span whatsoever. As expected, nothing was accomplished that meeting.

Unlocking the front door to his mansion, Roderich envisioned the perfect afternoon to eradicate the migraine he had developed. There would be an hour of so of Chopin, then dinner with Ludwig, and hopefully to be in bed by eight, at least. He also threw a bubble bath into the mix, not that he'd ever share that tidbit of information with anyone else.

But as he jiggled the key in the lock, he felt a wave of dread wash over him. The door was already unlocked. Squeezing his eye's shut, he tried to remember back to that morning. Even though he had been tired, he definitely remembered locking the door. Why wouldn't he?

Cautiously opening the door, he caught the sight of a dark denim jacket lying on the couch in the main hall. His pulse resumed it's steady beat. It was only Gilbert.

After walking inside and shutting (he remembered to lock it for sure this time) the door behind him, the reality hit him in the face. He felt his migraine ache worse than ever with the sense of foreboding.

_Gilbert was in his house._

Roderich groaned openly, deciding that the best approach would be to go through his routine and ignore Gilbert completely, then call Ludwig to kick him out later on.

A part of his brain nagged that it was nearly impossible to ignore Gilbert, after all, he had tried _many _times to no avail.

He brushed it off, hoping that Gilbert would eventually get bored and leave, taking all of the baby chicks with him this time.

Shuddering at the memory, Roderich entered the grand room where he kept the ebony piano he was quite fond of. The room had the highest ceiling in the house, with tall windows taking up the full height of the walls. Sunlight cast through the thinly veiled curtains, bathing the tiles in a soft, golden glow. Feeling his mood brighten at just being in the room, Roderich unbuttoned his violet suit jacket and hung it on the coat hook by the door. As he turned his eyes to his piano, a terrible eyesore caught his eye.

It was the Prussian flag...

...that perched on top of a navy blue tent...

...sitting cozily on his piano.

Roderich felt a vein throbbing in his forehead, and stalked towards his most beloved artifact. Fighting the urge to rip the offending thing from his sight, he sat down at the bench and poised his slender fingers over the keys. They had held the itch to play music all day, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let someone like Gilbert Beilschmidt stand in his way.

Promising himself that he'd burn the stupid tent later before Ludwig came over, he began to play.

Instantly, the tension was gone, the frustration had vanished, it all was released through the gentle notes of the piano. Music was the only thing that could soothe Roderich's soul to that extent; it relaxed him and gave him the wonderful feeling of inspiration he couldn't get anywhere else.

His eyelids slipped shut as his fingers continued to move and he involuntarily moved with the rhythm. Mariazell, the lone curl that stuck up from his part, bounced along as well.

He was too engrossed in the music to notice the two crimson eyes that peeked out mischievously from the darkness inside the tent.

"Roddy!"

Before his eyelids had the chance to fly open, Roderich screamed in horror, flailing and falling backwards. The piano bench tipped over with him, sending them both crashing to the hard tile with an echoing _thump_.

The Prussian's cackling laugh rang in his ears, and as Roderich sat up, he caught sight of Gilbert laying on his stomach in the tent. The albino wore a devilish grin, and his chin was propped up with both hands. Roderich instantly saw red. Jumping to his feet, he stalked back in Gilbert's direction.

"_Mein Gott_, do you have no common sense? Get out of there before you break my piano, you daft idiot."

Gilbert feigned an expression of hurt. "Roddy, darling, are you calling me _fat_?"

"I'll be calling you a lot worse unless you get out of there _now_," Roderich seethed.

"Okay, okay," Gilbert grumbled, even though he was having a hard time hiding his wide grin. He climbed out of the piano most ungracefully, slamming his knee down on several piano keys in the process. Roderich winced, fighting the urge to strangle him to death.

Jumping off of the bench and landing on the flood with a resounding crash, Gilbert stood proudly at his full height. "I hid in there for three hours," he bragged to the Austrian, whose eyes were twitching in the bottled-up anger. "But it was _so_ worth it to hear you scream like a little girl, Roddy." He dissolved into laughter again, and this only enraged Roderich further.

"Well then. What _else_ shall I have to do for you until you can leave my house _without_ me having to call your brother this time?" Roderich hissed through clenched teeth.

"A beer would be nice," Gilbert said thoughtfully. "West won't buy me any more."

"I wonder why," Roderich thought bitterly, pulling his cell phone out of his pants pocket.

Gilbert smirked. "Aw, come on Rod. It was just a joke, no need to get so pissy about it."

Roderich sent him a death glare as he punched the numbers into his cell phone. "How would _you _like it if I constantly made a wreck of your home every day? Better yet, how would you feel if all you saw was me constantly annoying you, simply because I'm too bored to do anything efficient with my life?"

Gilbert's grin widened. "I'd say that you were my wife."

Roderich felt his rage boiling over, and he finally pressed the 'talk' button.

"Hey, Roddy...who're you..."

"Ludwig? It's me...yes, he's here _again_."

Gilbert's face contorted in horror.

"Damn it!"

* * *

There were no words to describe the happiness that Roderich felt when he heard Ludwig's brisk knock on his front door. The twenty minutes of chaos that ensued after the call had been made were quite possibly the worst twenty minutes of Roderich's life outside the battlefield. Gilbert's ability to be so damn annoying really baffled the Austrian at times.

Roderich practically threw the front door open, and seeing the stoic, blond German standing in front of him made him want to cry with happiness. "Ludwig," he said as calmly as possible, realizing that if he had ever wanted to give him a hug, it would have been now.

Ludwig nodded. "Hello, Roderich. Are you sure you'll be okay for dinner tonight still? You look like hell..."

Roderich waved his hand as if to clear the idea from Ludwig's head. "I'll be fine. As long as your brother's not around to harass me, I think I'll be able to get some sleep tonight."

"What'd he do this time?" Ludwig inquired, stepping over the threshold of the door as Roderich ushered him inside. "You seem pretty...well...distraught."

Roderich clenched his jaw as he remembered the sight of that _thing_ defiling his piano. "Fort...in the piano..."

Ludwig raised his hand to cover his mouth, and even Roderich could see that he was doing a poor job of hiding his laughter. "Ludwig, please!" he begged. "The meeting today was enough hell for a week, if you could keep your brother on a leash or something..._anything_...for the next few days, I'd...I'd be able to get a decent night's sleep, for one..."

Ludwig interrupted him. "It's fine, Roderich," he assured him. "He'll be with Antonio and Francis all next week as far as I suppose...but I'll try to talk to him."

Roderich sighed in relief. "Thank you, Ludwig."

"And one more thing," the German added as he walked into the kitchen to pry his older brother from the refrigerator, "he only does this because you get angry. You know that, right?"

"Of course! Why else would he insist on being such a...an...annoyance?"

Ludwig shrugged. "I don't think we'll ever know. But Roderich, he does it for your reaction. If you stop giving him that satisfaction, he'll probably stop."

Roderich paused. He had been rendered speechless. True, he had never considered this point, but it made perfect sense to him. Gilbert always did enjoy provoking his reactions, even back during the War...

"Come on, _brüder_, let's go."

"West? Aw, why do you always have to show up and ruin all the fun?"

Roderich was surprised at how obedient Gilbert was to Ludwig. Even though he was the older brother, the Prussian seemed to do anything that Ludwig said.

_Hm. So he actually _can_ be caring towards people_, Roderich thought sullenly.

As Ludwig dragged his silver-haired brother out the door, Gilbert looked over his shoulder and caught Roderich's eye.

"See you soon, Roddy!"

As the door slammed shut, Roderich felt his migraine kick back up again for the third time that night.

* * *

_**A/N: I lovelovelovelove the German nations in APH. They're all complete opposites and just...ahh. :D**_

_**Reviews are always encouraged [: *also is prepared to bribe with cookies*  
**_


	2. Chapter 2

Once Gilbert was safely out of the property boundaries, Roderich felt a huge weight disappear off his shoulders. All at once, the drowsiness of the day had caught up with him, and he slumped onto the sofa in his living room in defeat. Taking off his glasses and polishing them with the hem of his button-down shirt, he began to think about what Ludwig had said earlier. He knew of course that he shouldn't let Gilbert's antics bother him, but the way Ludwig had brought it up made him second-guess the idea. Sure, he had known the lunatic since Prussia was first a country, and he had always seemed to want to annoy him back then as well. Well, to put it fair, the bothers were much greater several centuries ago. Roderich shuddered inwardly at the thought of losing Silesia to the red-eyed creep.

But now that Prussia wasn't a country anymore and it's personification was still around, Roderich had half-expected him to calm down a bit and attempt to make use of himself. Instead, Gilbert's laziness and his ability to bore himself easily caused him to wind up on Roderich's property. Of course, the Austrian had done the obvious – locks, passwords to enter the gates, more locks...yet somehow Gilbert still managed to slam the front door open and strut into the foyer as casually as if it were is own home. Roderich wondered how he was still mentally sane after putting up with Gilbert's antics for...sixty, maybe seventy, years now? He groaned. Seven decades with the Prussian by his side were not ones that he'd fondly look back on in the centuries to come.

He grumbled to himself, wondering why Gilbert never pestered his brother or the other members of his little club. It seemed that all of his childish behavior was saved specially for him. Of course, Roderich was more than fed up with it. But Ludwig was one of his closest friends, and they were practically neighbors. And releasing all of his pent-up rage on Gilbert would result in Ludwig going insane on him. And even though Ludwig was younger than Gilbert and himself, Roderich sincerely hoped that he would never see the usually stern German angry. Especially at him.

A soft scritch-scratching noise interrupted Roderich's train of thought. He stared down cautiously at the tiled floor, only to see a small animal skittering about on it's wire-thin legs. He reached down carefully and scooped up the baby chick. It's soft fuzz (it wasn't nearly abundant enough to be feathers yet) was a rich, buttercup yellow, and it's marble eyes blinked curiously at him. Occasionally, it would let out a cheep, and Roderich couldn't bring himself to put the bird down. Of course, he knew that this was the infamous Gilbird, Gilbert's beloved pet and partner in crime. Glancing towards his wrist, Roderich read his watch. It was almost six-thirty. Ludwig would be back in half an hour.

Deciding that he was well-deserving of a nap, Roderich snuggled up on his sofa pillows, letting the baby chick rest gently on his chest. After the Austrian fell asleep almost instantly, Gilbird crawled carefully into Roderich's breast pocket and seemed to fall asleep as well.

A sudden knocking at the door awoke Roderich from his short nap and a very strange dream. He couldn't quite recall it, but he did remember there being infinite amounts of Gilbirds, only with the same red eyes and cackling laugh as their master.

Roderich shook his head as he stood up and smoothed out his button-down shirt. He never wanted to see those yellow fuzzballs in that abundance ever in his lifetime.

Just before his hand touched the doorknob, an impatient pounding on the door began. He heard muffled whispers and a low warning in Ludwig's voice. The brunette sighed. He could only imagine...

Opening the door, he saw both of the brothers – one very tired Ludwig, and a very distraught Gilbert.

"West, relax! I have to find him, you know how he's afraid of the dark!"

At least he didn't have to wake up to Gilbert, Roderich thought, pitying the blond-haired German.

Stepping aside, he ushered in Ludwig, and gave Gilbert a reproachful glare. "Haven't you caused enough havoc for one day?" he asked tiredly.

Gilbert ignored him. "Where's Gilbird?" he asked, panic rising in his voice.

Roderich's mind went blank for a moment before remembering the little golden ball of fluff he had found before he fell asleep. Seeing Gilbert's worried eyes made him feel a twinge of guilt when he didn't have an answer for the Prussian. He had remembered tucking the bird close to him so it wouldn't get lost, but...

_Cheep!_

All three pairs of eyes suddenly darted towards Roderich's shirt pocket, where a tiny, fuzzy head was peeking it's way out. Gilbert squealed, quite literally, and reached out to collect his small friend.

Roderich was still getting over at the squeal that had come out of the self-proclaimed 'manly man'.

"Gilbird, there you are!"

The silver-haired Prussian then proceeded to discipline the chick while cuddling him to his chest at the same time.

Ludwig sighed and turned to Roderich. "Thank _Gott_ you found him. _Brüder_'s been insane since the moment we got home...and you think that you've seen him at his worst."

Roderich's eyebrow arched. "Did he..."

"He tore up every room, even though he knew that he had brought him to your house."

This left the Austrian speechless. He hadn't known Gilbert to have such a motherly instinct...over a baby chick, nonetheless. When Ludwig gently ushered his brother out the front door, Roderich allowed himself a small smile as he heard Gilbert croon to his pet. He knew that this was probably a rare sight among Francis and Antonio, but it was strangely reassuring to know that this raving madman that tortured him on a daily basis did indeed have a caring side to him.

When Ludwig shut the door, Roderich led him to the dining room.

"Ludwig, what _is_ the deal with that bird, anyway?" he inquired.

The blond's lips quirked in a small half-smile. "He's had it since the days when he used to reign as the top military force in the world," he said. "Myself, I think he's just superstitious, but he really adores it. I hear him talking to it sometimes at night, you know."

Roderich chuckled. It felt good to loosen up after a rough day, that was for sure. Brining out the plates and a fresh bottle of wine, both him and Ludwig were seated.

Their typical discussion took place – the world meeting, and the constant bickering of certain nations. Business matters always came first, and being the representation of Austria, Roderich knew that his job came before himself at times. However, the conversation strayed and became more relaxed. Whether it was the wine's fault or not, Roderich wasn't sure, but he didn't care regardless.

"...and I come home to find Feliciano in my kitchen, with flour everywhere. I never remembered giving him the keys, either."

Roderich grinned. "Feliciano is quite the go-getter when he wants to be...isn't he?"

Ludwig grunted. "Not unless it involves pasta or art."

Roderich shrugged. "That's just him. He's more like his grandfather, or so I've heard."

Ludwig nodded. "His brother's another story, though. I don't know how Antonio puts up with him, even though _brüder_ does tell me the most interesting stories..."

Roderich took a sip of wine from his newly refilled glass. "I agree, even back when I had custody of Feliciano, Lovino would give him such a hard time."

Ludwig nodded. "But _brüder_'s been awfully interested in Feliciano lately. I found a new album of pictures devoted to him on his blog."

Roderich raised an eyebrow. This was typical Gilbert behavior – no respect for privacy and personal bubbles."He put them_ where_?"

"On his blog," Ludwig said casually. "He keeps this online journal, only some of us with Internet and usernames get to see it. Elizaveta is actually quite the frequent visitor."

"Hm," Roderich said, his interest sparked. "Could you send me the link sometime? I'd like to see this."

"Sure," Ludwig said, finishing up his glass and rising from his seat. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind, but just don't go throwing the information out. He probably wouldn't enjoy certain people finding it."

Roderich stared at him in confusion as they walked towards the main hallway. "Then why are you still giving me access? He despises me."

Ludwig gave him a small smile. "I wouldn't be so sure. He talks about you all the time, so I'm sure he wouldn't mind. And besides...there's some things you might learn from that website that you'd never get out of _brüder _in person."

Roderich was dumbfounded. Ludwig's speaking in riddles didn't help, especially when it was this late at night.

Ludwig gave Roderich a knowing smile before closing the door quietly behind him, leaving the brunette stuttering in his wake.

Roderich sighed in dejection as he headed towards the marble staircase. Today had been eventful enough; he would think over what Ludwig had mentioned tomorrow. Besides, nothing sounded more welcoming and appealing to him right now than a nice, long sleep into the late hours of the morning.

Changing into his purple silk pajamas as quickly as possible, Roderic set his glasses on the nightstand and collapsed into his array of white blankets and comforters. In no time at all, sleep overtook him, and all thoughts of the red-eyed Prussian had evaporated from his thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: Thank you all sooo much for the favorites/reviews :'D I never thought this story would be that good, but I'm glad you're enjoying it. It's quite fun to write, and I hope that it's as enjoyable for you as well (:_**

**_P.S. I don't like wasting your time with these, so I'll skip author's notes sometimes so you can read without my comments interrupting you. XD_**

* * *

The sunlight streaming gently through Roderich's windows were what pulled him from sleep the next morning. Feeling quite contended, the Austrian ran his fingers through his messy, chocolate-brown hair. It had been a while since he was able to wake up naturally, instead of at four-o'-clock in the morning to the annoying beeping of his alarm.

It was quite a bright morning, he thought, for it only being ten-o'-clock or so. The sunlight cast in pools on the carpet and on the white blankets, giving them a shimmering glow. Roderich smiled, a small, genuine smile that he hadn't been able to show in what felt like forever. His final thought before climbing out of bed was of his dreams, and how thankful he was that no Gilbirds appeared that time.

After his Saturday morning routine of breakfast and the newspaper, Roderich remembered his conversation with Ludwig from the previous night. He wondered why Gilbert would even bother mentioning him to his brother, aside from the bragging and gloating associated with his usual activities. However, he brushed it off as he entered his office. Sitting down in the desk chair with a fresh cup of coffee by him, Roderich gingerly placed his laptop on the smooth, mahogany wood. He lifted the lid and turned it on carefully; he had never been one to understand technology quite well. Aside from his e-mails with the other nations and the world news, he really didn't have a purpose in owning a computer. Besides, he was the nation of Austria. What good would being glued to a glowing screen all day bring him?

The computer screen quickly pulled up his e-mail in a series of clicks, and he started for the unread message from Ludwig. However, another window popped up and blocked his way. Roderich recognized it as the chat window, which he found to be a rather pointless addition to the e-mail system. These computers really knew how to destroy the means of a proper conversation.

But the username of the person so eagerly sending him messages made him reach for his coffee mug, hoping the caffeine would make him feel a bit better.

_**PrussianBlue: **__hey, specs!_

Roderich felt like kicking a puppy. Nonetheless, he typed a short response.

_**Nocturne2: **__A little early in the morning to be patronizing me, isn't it?_

_** PrussianBlue: **__never 2 early, roddy ;)_

Roderich frowned at the screen. How was he letting the annoying Prussian ruin his day from a distance? This couldn't happen. He had half a mind to shut down the computer at that very moment, but remembered Ludwig's e-mail. Minimizing the chat window, he pulled up the e-mail and waited for it to load.

An annoying flashing lit up the chat window, and Roderich impatiently pulled it back up.

_**PrussianBlue:**__ hey, whered u go?_

_**PrussianBlue:**__ u there?_

Roderich fought to keep his composure.

_**Nocturne2:**_ _Mein Gott! Yes, Gilbert, I'm here! Has it occurred to you that I might be busy?_

Hopefully, the pest could take a hint and know when he wasn't wanted. But, then again...

_** PrussianBlue:**__ nope._

Roderich took several deep breaths, trying to convince himself that Gilbert wasn't worth getting so worked up over. But his temper was slowly rising, and he turned to Ludwig's email for a distraction.

_Roderich,_

_ As much as we'd all like to, please don't smash brüder's face in._

_ Ludwig._

The link was pasted underneath the short note.

Even though Roderich knew that _everyone_ had probably wanted to smash Gilbert's face in at one point or another, he felt a sinking, dreadful feeling. What was on this blog that could possibly make him even angrier at the Prussian than he already was?

Hesitantly, he clicked the link. As it loaded, he pulled up Gilbert's chat window, which was flashing crazily.

_**PrussianBlue:**__ btw, im rlly happy that gilbirds back. so thx, i guess._

_**Nocturne2:**_ _Gilbert, your grammar is atrocious. Please type in German so that I could at least try to understand you._

_**PrussianBlue: **__like hell id be caught taking orders from U, specs. and if u bothered to get over ur damn prissy ego, ud know that im saying thank u. instead u bitch about my 'grammar'. i swear, ur about as kind and caring as a venus flytrap._

_** Nocturne2:** Yet I put up with you terrorizing my property all days of the week._

_**PrussianBlue: **__nah, u just havent bothered to stop me yet. cya l8r, roddy!_

Roderich glared long and hard at the screen as the green dot next to Gilbert's name went gray as he signed off. Glowering, he signed out as well, making a mental not to figure out how to block the annoying creep from speaking to him. Deciding that he could use some amusement, he opened up the window with Gilbert's blog site.

"_Oresama no Blog_?" Roderich asked under his breath as he read the header. Of course, behind the header was a picture of Gilbert with Gilbird on his shoulder...and then some more baby birds...

He scrolled down and read Gilbert's profile.

"Nickname...birthday...self-introduction...what?" Roderich's eyes widened in horror. Gilbert had actually had the nerve to desrcibe himself as a 'sexy man'. Roderich shuddered and continued on, heading towards the journal entries and posts.

The latest entry made his body freeze and his blood boil.

"_July 12 – An Album JUST FOR FOUR-EYES."_

Not even believing what he was seeing, Roderich's teeth grinded as he scrolled though pages and pages of pictures...all of _HIM_.

Most were from yesterday, but he could see that Gilbert had been saving these. There were many of him at the piano, some when he was in the kitchen, some from meetings, just random pictures from random places, with him wearing a variety of expressions. Roderich felt ready to kill with his bare hands when he saw the upper body shot of him in the shower. The _shower_? Oh yes, Gilbert would pay dearly for this. Roderich's eyes twitched in anger as he scrolled down to the comments.

_**Antonio:**__ Ahh, Gilbert, I knew you were obsessed, but I didn't know it was THIS bad~_

_**Francis: **__Would you mind forwarding some of these to me, _mon ami_? ;)_

_**Gilbert: **__Shut it, Antonio. There's only so much to do at Roddy's house. And Francis, keep your pants on. Please._

Roderich felt sick. Especially reading Francis's comment. Rereading it to make sure that he wasn't imagining things, he noticed something. _Of course he uses incorrect grammar to inconvenience me_, he thought bitterly.

He knew that Antonio called Gilbert's newfound hobby an obsession, but Roderich knew that Gilbert was just out to keep the misery in his life alive. Fuming, he minimized the window and shut the laptop's lid carefully. There'd be hell to pay, that was for sure. He leaned back in his chair, finished off his room-temperature coffee, and thought. He needed to keep his cool; that was all he needed to beat Gilbert at his own little game.

He also could think of someone else who would be very helpful to his cause.

Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he flipped it open and pressed speed dial. The dial tone rang until a female voice answered. "Hello?"

"Hello, Elizaveta," Roderich said, grinning in spite of himself.

* * *

"Roderich, oh my God."

"I know!" Roderich fumed, crossing his arms across his chest. "The idiot had the _nerve_ to take such...such..."

His thoughts trailed off as he realized that his wide-eyed ex-wife was currently pressing a handkerchief to her nostrils to stop the blood flow.

"Elizaveta!" he yelled in a voice that certainly wasn't a whine.

"I'm sorry, Roderich," she said meekly. "But you have to admit...Gilbert is quite the skilled photographer."

The Austrian felt his face flame up. "That's not my point. I need to get back at him, but I don't know _how_. I'm completely fed up with his...his..."

"Everything?" asked the Hungarian.

"Precisely," Roderich said, adjusting his glasses. "Now, I know that you've taken your frying pan to his face several times..." he gulped seeing the heavy kitchen item in her hand, "...but I told Ludwig that I wouldn't hurt him physically. So, I thought you would know – how do I break his ego?"

"It's impossible," Elizaveta said simply, twirling a strand of caramel-colored hair around her index finger. "Nothing can make Gilbert's ego die, and you know it. But you can knock him down a few notches, I suppose."

"How?" Roderich pressed.

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

"I'm not killing a poor little bird just to spite him," Roderich retorted. "Plus, if it's been around as long as us, it probably won't die anytime soon."

Elizaveta sighed. Her ex-husband was awfully hard to put up with when he was distressed. "That's not what I meant," she said, "but if you really don't understand, I'll help you. But first, I want you to read that entire little site of his. Any dirt on him you find could be very useful. I'll look, too, and you can send me what you find and vice versa. Does that sound okay?"

Roderich sighed in relief. "Yes. Thank you, Elizaveta."

She smiled. "No problem. It's always a refreshing treat to give that creep what he deserves."

The Austrian's purple eyes widened at the vengeance in her tone. "I..."

She waved off his suspicions. "Don't worry about it. He just bothers me is all."

Roderich nodded slowly. "I see. Well, thank you for your help."

Elizaveta smiled at her ex-husband before turning around and exiting his office quietly.

Once she was out of hearing distance in the hallway, she pulled out her cell phone and pressed speed dial. The dial tone rang until a male voice answered.

"_Konnichiwa_?"

"Kiku, you are not going to _believe_ what just happened!" Elizaveta said excitedly, a sinister grin on her face.

* * *

After Elizaveta left, Roderich's brilliant plan was to devote a few hours researching every minor detail on Gilbert's blog. He hated the thought of wasting away his precious hours poring over the moron's life, but it needed to be done. Part of his mind was also curious to see what other posts mentioned his name, for reasons he didn't know.

So it was with a pained expression that he sat in his desk chair behind a glowing screen. His eyes hurt, his head ached, but he kept reading. Some of the updates were one sentence long, and others were just stupid. Others were a combination of both.

_'Today I was awesome all day.'_

He let his forehead hit the desk.

After twenty minutes or so, Roderich found himself staring at a small collection of pictures, all of Feliciano. He grinned a bit when he read Ludwig's comment, knowing that the German probably disapproved of Gilbert's attention to Feliciano like that. After all, pretty much everyone except Ludwig and Feliciano knew that the two were secretly crazy about the other. Well, Feliciano hugged everyone he saw and said 'I love you' at least ten times a day, but Roderich was pretty sure that he'd return Ludwig's feelings.

Continuing in his reading, Roderich found most of the blog to be pretty boring. Half of the writings he didn't even begin to understand, and the other half seemed to be Gilbert's daily life.

_How nice_, he thought, _to not run a country anymore, but to constantly annoy people as well._

Realizing that his goals of finding any blackmail-worthy information on Gilbert probably wouldn't come to fruition, he clicked on the next page, promising himself to stop for lunch (and for some aspirin, the computer screen was so darn _bright) _if he didn't find anything else on here. However, the first post on the page caught his eye. The update date was only a couple of weeks ago, and there was no title. The single sentence made Roderich's amethyst eyes widen in shock.

_How do you know when you hate or love somebody?_

Scrolling down quickly to the comments, he read through some of Francis's X-rated comments, but stopped at Antonio's.

_Gilbert~ it's been ages. You should know the answer to that by now._

Ages? Antonio _knew_ who this person was? Well, Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert were best friends, so naturally they'd know...but how was it possible that Gilbert was in love with somebody? He had never know the silverette's attention span to be very wide, and the fact that he had been harboring these kinds of feelings for years (the nations used the word 'ages' quite literally) truly shocked him. In all the (hundreds of) years that he'd known Gilbert, his priorities seemed to be fighting, annoying him, his military, and his nation. He was definitely not a romantic, or an emotional person. Roderich snorted. Gilbert would rather die than admit that he was in touch with his feelings.

Deciding that he had enough to mull over for one day, Roderich shut the lid of the laptop and rose from the desk chair. When a sharp pang in his temples made him grab onto the desk for support, he made a mental note to never sit in front of that screen for more than three hours again.

Retreating into the kitchen, he sat down at the table with a small notebook, pens, and a fresh cup of coffee. He thought himself more than well-deserving of it after devoting half of his morning to Gilbert's strange website.

He looked at the list of the nations he had made in his neat penmanship. First, he crossed out Ivan Braginsky. There was no way in heaven or hell that Gilbert would ever be civil to that man, let alone in love with him. Even though he was debating between hate and love with his mystery person, Roderich couldn't bring himself to believe it was Ivan.

He then crossed out Francis and Antonio. Their little group was corrupt enough without unrequited love. On second thought, he crossed out Lovino Vargas and Matthew Williams. The only one that Gilbert would hate out of them would be Lovino (Matthew was a close friend to him, actually), but he doubted that Gilbert would go low enough to steal one of his best friends' love interests.

He decided next to cross out all of the (strange) couples on the list.

Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland. Their relationship was strange, with one person being dense, and the other being ignorant of his obvious desire for the other (Kiku called this a 'tsundere', whatever THAT was). Regardless, he knew that Alfred and Gilbert were on friendly terms, and he would occasionally go drinking with Arthur. Shuddering at the thought, Roderich moved on.

He crossed out Ludwig's name three times, not even bothering to let the thoughts enter his mind. Feliciano was next; Gilbert would never do that to his younger brother.

Heracles Karpusi followed, and then most of the Asian nations. Gilbert's infatuation could be anybody, but he rarely spoke to any of the Asians at all. Shrugging, he crossed out Yao, Kiku, Yong Soo, and the others.

If anything, he decided, they'd be a European. Knowing Gilbert, it was probably someone that he'd known for a while. The Baltic states he crossed out next, knowing that Ivan's wrath was something Gilbert (or anyone, for that matter) would not want to experience.

Roderich frowned at the sheet of paper, which left only a couple of names left. All of the remaining options seemed highly unlikely, except...

Elizaveta.

Roderich knew that the Hungarian girl had been a close companion of Gilbert's since they were young, even though he mistook her for a boy. He also had annoyed her on many an occasion, which resulted in her purchase of a frying pan to smack him upside the head with. Even though Elizaveta was on Roderich's side in the Seven Year's War and was even married to him for a brief period of time, it could have been possible for Gilbert to have some kind of affection for her.

As far as Roderich knew, Gilbert didn't really have a preference when it came to men and women, so he deemed the mystery person to be Elizaveta for the moment being.

But something in his mind seemed ill at ease when he circled his ex-wife's name.

* * *

_**A/N: Andddd there's chapter 3! c:**_

_***BTW there is an 'Oresama no Blog': **_**_http:/ spazzy . starry - sky .com /oresamanosite/ t . html (w/o spaces ;;)_**

_**My inspiration for this, haha. I'm just altering some bits for the story's purpose.**_

_***Also, Roderich's screen name...one of Chopin's famous works was Nocturne no. 2 XD;  
**_

_**Reviews/criticism are welcomed! ;]  
**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Woo! Finally, another chapter :]**_

_**Thanks so much to all my lovely follwers and reviewers of this story, I appreciate it a lot ;u; and I'm sorry that it's so boring, it'll get interesting when I get to write more of Gilbert~ I promise**_

_**It takes me so much longer to write nowadays...**_

_**

* * *

**_

Elizaveta smiled proudly as she presented the file to Kiku.

"You'll never believe where I found these, either," she said eagerly, unable to contain her excitement. "Gilbert's website! He has a blog, Kiku. This is perfect!"

The Japanese man remained perfectly calm, but his excitement was undeniable. "What else have you found?"

"Some pictures...mostly of himself, of course, but there's some of Feli and Ludwig." She qrung her hands. "But look at it, read what he writes! Some of it is just stupid, of course, but look at _this _one!"

She pulled up the window she had bookmarked. The post consisting of a single line was there in all it's glory, and she couldn't help the wide grin that spread over her face as Kiku read it.

Dark brown eyes locked on emerald, and they shared a knowing smile.

"Did Roderich-san read it yet?"

"I'm assuming so," Elizaveta replied, scrolling down and reading the comments. "But he probably doesn't know yet."

"How?" Kiku asked, his voice holding a hint of disbelief.

Elizaveta shrugged. "You know Roderich. He's always been in denial of everything. I bet you right now that he's crossing out the names of all the nations, trying to narrow it down to the one person who could be Gilbert's love interest. Two hundred yen."

"That's a bit extreme, but you have a point," the dark-haired man said thoughtfully. "But who could possibly captivate Gilbert-san to that extent? It is quite shocking, you know."

Elizaveta smiled. "You live in Asia, so you never witnessed the wars close-up," she said. "We all knew that there was something going on with Gilbert, especially Antonio and Francis. So, one of them told Ludwig, who told me. But it wasn't like we were stupid, Ludwig _is_ Gilbert's brother, after all."

Kiku nodded. "I see. So, what was it that you had in mind?"

Elizaveta paced the carpet on her bedroom floor. "We obviously can't go tell Roderich outright who Gilbert likes, because it'll be too fun to watch him try to figure it out on his own."

"And if we tell him right away, he won't ever take the time to realize..."

He trailed off and his eyes met Elizaveta's, who was grinning happily, even though her eyes were scheming.

"Exactly," she confirmed. "I promised him I'd call him if I saw anything, but I'm sure that he'll call first."

"So, we'll wait?"

"We shall."

* * *

The afternoon consisted of much needed relaxation for Roderich; he had too much on his mind for his own good. Putting the thoughts of Gilbert and his blog aside, he made his way to the grand room where he kept his piano. Smiling when he saw no trace of the navy blue tent, he sat down on the bench and sifted through his sheet music. A couple of practicing hours would do him well; it was time he memorized a new song.

After warming up with some of his favorite works by Chopin, he began to pluck out the first several notes on the new piece. Roderich wondered how the music sheets hadn't been worn down or wrinkled over time, the notes were still perfect little blots of ink. Of course, he preserved them well, but he wondered how they weren't completely worn down from his eyes absorbing the notes and scanning over them with detail constantly. Such was the way of music with the Austrian, he would play without thinking, and sometimes his fingers would play along with the make-believe keys on the conference tables at world meetings. Of course, this used to provoke snide comments from Gilbert back when he was still allowed to attend those meetings.

However, Roderich let these thoughts evaporate from his mind as he played. His eyelids slowly slipped shut, and he continued to play, the sound of the soothing music the only thing to be heard. Roderich loved the thoughts and the feelings that music evoked, especially in the piano. It was such a beautiful thing; sometimes there were no words to describe it at all.

However, his thoughts strayed, as they usually did when he was so deep in his music. However, all he could see were a pair of scarlet eyes, shining in amusement. Their owner wore a smirk, one that said he knew something that Roderich did not.

Snapping his eyes open, Roderich's fingers froze and he slammed on the keys. How was it that the only day that Gilbert didn't show up, he was still annoying him?

Man, the Prussian was better than he thought.

Roderich had to admit, the house did feel larger and emptier without the loud, obnoxious presence that Gilbert brought, but he'd rather stay with Ivan for a week than admit that to anyone else. He was just unused to being without a constant nuisance; that was all.

Even though he was quite thankful for the lack of Gilbert, he felt slightly ill at ease. Wondering if all nations felt like this at some point, he headed back in the direction of his office to where the headache-inducing screen was.

In no time at all, he had signed on, blocked Gilbert, and had Gilbert's blog pulled up. Trying to find where he left off, he noticed a small tab by the list of posts. He clicked the 'archives' tab curiously, and felt his stomach drop when he saw what looked like decades worth of blog entries. The ones he had been reading only covered the past seven months.

Roderich sighed and scrolled to the first entry. It was quite old, from the early nineties. He remembered that time period well – the standoff between Ivan and Alfred had just ended, and the European nations had released the breath they'd been holding for fifty years. Roderich was fortunate enough to have been neutral during the entire time, but he remembered seeing the devastation plastered on Ludwig's and even Gilbert's faces after the ordeal. They had been split by a wall, hit the hardest, and neither of them had ever opened up about it.

But this post was the longest by far, and Roderich's eyes scanned the words slowly. What he read brought him a shock, but he couldn't stop himself from reading.

_Well, I'm alive. Though if you asked me a couple years ago, I'd want to die._

_ So, I had my country for so many years. It was really something to be proud of, we had such power, and I thought I had it all._

_ And suddenly, it all disappeared._

_ West's boss went crazy, it was a race for power, and everyone was dying, there was so much blood, it made me sick...this wasn't war like I thought I knew it. This was murder, it was hell._

_ I loved fighting back when I had power, but seeing all of this torture right in front of me happen for no reason at all, I felt sick. West did, too, I knew that._

_ And I guess we got what we deserved. Ivan, from the cold version of hell, decided to annex half of us and leave us to suffer. And of course, me and West got the full brunt of it. But we deserved it. After all, we took the blame for so many people dying._

_ I wanted it to stop, I hated it. But I knew that in a way, I deserved this. So West and I were separated by concrete for forty years. We had lived for hundreds of years, yet we were too weak to climb over a concrete wall._

_ It was the second time in my life that I thought I was a goner, for sure._

_ The first was February 25, 1947. The war was finally over, but we would pay dearly, West and me. They ripped away my land, and my younger brother plummeted into ruin. It ripped me apart. It was worse than losing my country, to see my little brother who I'd raised for centuries in so much pain, but I was powerless. I couldn't help him out this time._

_ And when the land was gone, and my status as a nation revoked, I lived in fear for days. I was going to die on the day they made it official. I just knew it. One night, I'd go to sleep, and I wouldn't wake up. I just stayed awake, I refused to sleep, and West seemed to know why. West and Four Eyes were the only people who were concerned at all._

_ I still remember getting the news about the date of the dissolution of Prussia, and Four Eyes was with me. He didn't leave, and we stayed up all night. Apparently, we had fallen asleep for an hour, but when I woke up, I couldn't remember a better feeling. I was alive._

Roderich felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he read. He knew that the dissolution of Prussia had been extremely hard on Gilbert, but the words he had used to describe West...it was heart-wrenching, how he couldn't help him during that time.

And Roderich did remember the days leading up to the dissolution...they were dark, cold days, and the aura of tension and fear had settled over all three of the German nations.

He continued to read, strangely captivated by how unlike Gilbert the writing sounded, but in a way, he felt as if Gilbert was right there, telling him the story in his low voice.

_But after being separated from West for so long, I got the feeling that I was better off dead. I had no country, so what was my purpose for being alive? But then, I realized that I had to live, for West, for Antonio, Francis, and other people I cared about. And being alone for so long gave me the time to think. I realized a really strange thing, but I kept it back, thinking that it was unimportant._

_ But I'm free. Because nobody can hold down the almighty Prussia!_

Roderich frowned at the computer screen. _Very lovely ending_, he thought sarcastically.

However, he felt strange after reading the entry. He'd never known Gilbert to feel that way; he'd only known a ruthless, war-hungry annoyance that enjoyed pitching tents on his piano.

Of course, the Gilbert he knew was still in his writing. The nickname 'Four Eyes' never did cease to annoy him.

The next few years had less posts than usual, but they weren't nearly as interesting as the first. No clues gave away any hints towards Gilbert's secret interest, but Roderich hid his disappointment.

He left the computer on away mode and meandered through the hallways of his estate, pulling out his cell phone to call Elizaveta. He wasn't exactly sure if she'd read the post in question yet, but he was interested in hearing her thoughts.

Of course, he wouldn't mention yet that he assumed _her _to be this mystery person. She'd probably reach for her frying pan and clobber both him and Gilbert.

She picked up on the second ring. "Hello, Roderich~" she said, and even through the phone, Roderich could sense a strange aura.

"Um, hello, Elizaveta," he said politely, trying to shake off the strange feeling. "I found an...interesting post on Gilbert's blog, it's..."

"The hate or love one?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Yes," he said in relief, thankful that he didn't have to go into detail and think about it more. "I'm absolutely baffled. I thought about all the nations, and not one of them I could picture putting up with Gilbert for more than a couple hours."

* * *

In her bedroom, Elizaveta turned to Kiku with a triumphant grin and held out her hand. Reluctantly, the Japanese man handed her two hundred yen, which she quickly pocketed.

* * *

"Look, Roderich, it's very sweet that you care that much, but isn't it quite obvious who he's after?"

Roderich was stunned. "I-it is?"

"Yeah! I always thought that him and Matthew would be an item. Though, I'm sure Francis and Alfred would kill him, it seemed kind of cute."

Roderich frowned, then remembered Elizaveta couldn't see it. "But, Matthew's already in an established relationship with Francis. I don't think Gilbert would do that to anybody, least of all one of his best friends."

"This is true," Elizaveta said. Throwing Kiku a panicked glance, he quickly wrote another name down and showed it to her.

"But," she continued hastily, reading Kiku's note, "he's been awfully good friends with the Nordic nations for a while..."

"You mean Matthias?" Roderich thought of the sandy-haired Dane, who for some reason always wore a tiny hat for some reason. He was Gilbert's drinking buddy, but he had no other recollections of him.

"Sure," Elizaveta replied. "But tell me who _you_ think it is. You sound like everything I'm throwing out is wrong."

"Well..." Roderich said nervously, "I didn't really..."

"Just tell me," the Hungarian said impatiently as Kiku searched through the blog. "I won't kill you, I promise."

"I...I thought it...it was...well, you."

Dead silence. And then:

"Roderich Edelstein, you must have no brain cells left if _that's_ your answer."

"I'm sorry, Liz, but it all made sense...you two fight, and you've known each other forever..."

She laughed. "But he's not in love with me. Believe me, I'd know. And he'd be dead."

"True, true," Roderich said uneasily.

"But tell me," Elizaveta continued, leaning forward until her elbows rested on her desk's surface, "why are you so intent on figuring this out?"

Roderich paused. Why was he so interested in Gilbert's personal life? It wasn't as if it made much of a difference to him, but if the Prussian found out, he'd never hear the end of it.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, "but I did ask Ludwig for the website with the intent of finding blackmail material."

"You? Blackmailing somebody?" Elizaveta said with playful scorn. "No. You'd need my help for this. And that I would be happy to lend you."

"Okay..." Roderich said slowly. "I'll call you back the next time he does anything stupid."

"He's not there right now?" she asked in disbelief.

"No, thank goodness," Roderich said in relief. "Look, I'll call you back later, okay?"

"Bye~" Elizaveta said in her strange voice, and a click signaled that the line was dead.

Roderich stared at the phone in confusion. If he didn't know his ex-wife better, he'd say that she was up to something. But he didn't have much time to think about it, for there was a sudden ring of the doorbell.

* * *

Elizaveta flopped down on her soft mattress, grinning towards Kiku. "He's so dense."

Kiku allowed himself to return her smile with a half-grin. "Well, at least this whole experience will make for some great pictures, Elizaveta-san."

The brunette sat up and her eyes lit up. "Indeed..." she said, a scheming look coming over her features.

* * *

No sooner than Roderich had unlocked the front door, it slammed open and nearly knocked him over.

Regaining his balance, the Austrian had half a mind to kick the guest off of his property, but said guest was currently tackling him to the ground.

"Ow..." groaned Roderich as his back came into quick contact with the tile. "Get off me..."

He paused to see his attacker. Adjusting his glasses, he saw a pair of excited red eyes staring into his.

Roderich's expression turned cold, and his lips pressed into a hard, thin line. With a sudden, swift movement, he saw the crazed excitement leave the albino's eyes and become replaced with one of terrible pain. Gilbert collapsed on the ground beside Roderich, rocking back and forth while saying curses that would make a sailor blush.

With a triumphant grin, Roderich stood up and leaned over the Prussian. Gilbert looked back at him, his eyes teary with pain.

"What the _fuck_, Specs? I come over and I'm nice enough to ring the _doorbell_, and you _kick_ me in the fucking _balls_!"

"You had it coming." Roderich shrugged nonchalantly, crossing his arms across his chest.

Gilbert glared at him. "Shut up, Four Eyes."

Roderich raised an eyebrow. "Have you reverted to childish name calling? Honestly, Gilbert. Now, could you please leave? I'm very...busy...at the moment."

Forcing himself to stand, the Prussian rose to face Roderich in the eye with a smirk. "Naw, you don't really mean that. I bet'cha missed me anyway, didn't you, Roddy?" A grin spread across his features.

Roderich felt suddenly vulnerable under Gilbert's scheming gaze. "Of course not, you moron," he scoffed.

"Hm? Then why are you..." Gilbert paused and leaned closer to the Austrian, raising his right hand to brush his fingers along the smooth skin of Roderich's cheek, "...blushing?"

_Drowning, drowning, drowning..._

Roderich's actions finally caught up with his thoughts, and he slapped Gilbert's hands away, turning his back to hide the flush that had surely spread over his face. "Gilbert, if you have nothing better to do, will you please go bother somebody else for a change? It's for the sake of the both of us."

Gilbert laughed, a clear, ringing laugh, as he jogged to keep up with Roderich, who was walking briskly down the hallway. "Nah, I don't think so. You haven't killed me yet, so why should I stop now?"

Roderich did his best to give him a death glare.

"Come on, that wouldn't even scare Heracles's cats." Gilbert's silly grin only enraged Roderich further.

"I don't _care_ what you think," he hissed, stomping into his office.

Gilbert slipped in before he had the chance to close the door. "Well, in that case," he said cheerily, coming up behind Roderich and wrapping his arms around him tightly, "you're kinda cute when you're angry. Ya'know?"

Temporarily paralyzed, Roderich froze. He couldn't have possibly heard him correctly, there was no way in heaven or in hell that a word like 'cute' could ever leave Gilbert's mouth. Wrenching himself from Gilbert's strong grasp, Roderich pushed him in the direction of the sofa.

"Just sit here and try not to break anything, will you?" he muttered, glaring angrily at the smirking Prussian.

"No promises, Roddy," he said carelessly, pulling off his denim jacket and tossing it in a random direction. Roderich didn't bother looking when he heard a potted plant crash to the floor, for he had something else that was occupying his gaze.

Gilbert was wearing a tight black T-shirt that stretched over his torso, accenting his muscles perfectly. Roderich gulped as he drank in the Prussian's appearance, still wondering what had come over him...

"Hey, Specs? Enjoying the view, eh?"

Snapping his violet eyes back up, Roderich scowled. "Piss off, would you, Gilbert?"

"Such profanity coming from a pansy-ass like you? What next, is Ludwig gonna quit drinking?" Gilbert said mockingly. Roderich could almost feel his smile burning into his back.

"If you came over here just to annoy me, then could you kindly get the hell out of my office?" Roderich said in a clipped tone, trying to suppress his rage and stay casual at the same time.

Gilbert snorted. "And the last three thousand times don't count because...?"

Roderich chose to ignore him and shook his computer mouse to awaken the screen from away mode. After he typed in his password, he stared in horror at the website that was still pulled up on his screen.

As he frantically attempted to minimize it, he heard a quick shift in movement on the couch behind him. "Hey!" Gilbert shouted in surprise, "is that...my...?"

* * *

_**A/N: Fail cliffhanger is fail ;n;**_

_**I absolutely love the idea of Kiku/Elizaveta/maybe Francis teaming up against all of these happy Hetalia couples, so they were most definetely deserving of their cameos. c: R&R, please, darlings  
**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Hey, I'm still alive! Haha, band camp is eating my time up (nomnomnom), so here's a quickly done chapter. Apologies for the fail ;;**_

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Roderich felt the blood drain from his face. It was too late to close the window, Gilbert had already seen it. He wracked his brain for a reasonable excuse, but none came to mind as the silver-haired Prussian rose from the couch and came to stand beside Roderich.

"Roddy?" he asked, yanking the mouse from the frozen brunette's grasp and clicking on the minimized tab. Gilbert's blog in all it's vibrant colors sprung back to life. But what made Roderich really start to fear for his life was the giant, devious smirk that spread across Gilbert's face. Oddly enough, this frightened Roderich more than a murderous glare would have. A dreadful sense of foreboding washed over him, and he braced himself for the worst.

"Aw, Specs, I didn't know you cared this much!" he said in a strange, gleeful voice.

"I do not!" protested Roderich, smacking Gilbert's hand from the mouse. "Your brother sent me the link, and I was just browsing." He closed out of the window and turned to face those scarlet eyes. "By the way, you write about a bunch of useless nonesense."

Gilbert's smile brightened. "Well, that's good. Because according to you, that's the same thing as all of my thoughts. So it's perfect, right?"

Roderich groaned. Talking sense into Gilbert was like trying to teach Feliciano how to drive. It didn't work.

Gilbert moved to stand behind Roderich's chair, leaning so his hands were on either side of the laptop and his head was nestled in between Roderich's right cheek and shoulder. Said Austrian was now attempting to focus on the desktop background than on the hot breath on his neck. Yes, focus on the shiny aurora beams, up in the Arctic, it's so cold there, but _Gott_, this feels good...

Snapping himself out of it when Gilbert's hand covered his, he had half a mind to stand up and force the silverette from his office. Gilbert chuckled, however, and moved the hand over the mouse to pull up a new tab, and he typed in his blog address.

"So," he said in a low, husky voice, "was _this_ the 'important business' you told me you had to attend to earlier?" Roderich swallowed, knowing that he was caught.

"No," he said weakly.

"Bullshit," Gilbert said, and Roderich could practically _hear_ his stupid grin grow bigger. "Then why were you in such a hurry to hide it, huh?"

Roderich decided that it was best to not respond at this time. He stared down at the keyboard, frantically hoping that a distraction would send Gilbert disappearing forever. Better yet, he hoped to wake up and find it to be just a horrible nightmare.

But the warm breath that gave his skin goosebumps and tickled his neck was too real and too _good _to be just a dream. Hoping that his face didn't give him away, Roderich tried to turn to confront Gilbert. His efforts proved useless when the Prussian just grinned back at him. Their faces were so close, another inch or so and their noses would be touching. Nothing could be heard other than the frantic pounding of his heart, or so Roderich thought. He refused to be the weakling and turn away, and Gilbert only raised an eyebrow and looked around elsewhere.

"Roddy, I have to say, for a pansy, you're pretty interesting."

_Why_ did those words _have_ to send a shiver down Roderich's spine?

"But," Gilbert continued, reaching across the desk towards the piece of paper listing the names of all the nations (and making Roderich's face turn white), "this goes _beyond_ interesting. Man, Specs, you really read my entire blog?"

Roderich fumed, his face turning red. "I did not!" he retorted. "El..." He caught himself, thinking that mentioning Elizaveta would only hurt his cause. He cleared his throat. "I mean, it was such a shock to me, that I _had_ to at least try to guess."

Gilbert's scarlet eyes skimmed over the names, and every so often he would grin or utter a small chuckle. "Hey Rod, I like how you wrote West on here."  
"Shut up," Roderich grumbled.

"So, who'd you think is my mystery person?" Gilbert waggled his eyebrows, leaving Roderich to wonder how on earth that was even _possible_.

"It...it should say..." he said uneasily.

After a few moments, Gilbert located the name. He stared, and suddenly his face turned paler than his hair. "You paired me up with _that_ psychotic bitch?" he shouted. "Do you _want_ me to be brutally murdered in my sleep?" His crimson eyes were wide in desbelief.

"Well..." Roderich pondered.

"Wait, don't answer that," Gilbert hurriedly interjected. "And still, Four Eyes, you were wrong. Besides, I don't think you could have been more off."

"Then why don't you tell me while we're talking about it?" Roderich said, clearly exasperated.

Gilbert grinned a sly grin and shook his head. "No can do, Roddy. You're having too much fun with this, so why spoil it now?"

Roderich's eye twitched in anger. How could Gilbert _constantly_ be so annoying and infuriating...

"But, I guess I can spare a hint," Gilbert interrupted, giving Roderich the I-know-something-and-you-don't-so-I'm-gonna-torture-you-with-it-forever look.

"Okay, then," Roderich said. "And after you tell me, you can be so kind as to remove your lazy self from my home."

"Eh, we'll have to see about that," Gilbert said. He suddenly leaned closer, over the side of the chair, so his lips were almost brushing Roderich's ear. His voice went strangely low and husky again, and Roderich had to fight the rising flush on his cheeks.

"I meant what I said before," he breathed. "You weren't even close – you didn't even write _his _name down."

And as quickly as he had leaned in, he resumed his lounging position against the desk, his annoying smirk plastered back on his features. "So, now that I've told you something that you've been dying to know, can I go borrow your sprinkler?

Roderich was trying to clear his head of all of the strange thoughts his brain had conjured, only to hear Gilbert's request and stare in disbelief. "_What_?"

Gilbert shrugged. "West won't let me use ours."

"I wonder why," Roderich said sarcastically, leaning back in his chair.

"Because it accidentally caught on fire."

"What on earth...?"

"It was an _accident_," Gilbert huffed in his defense.

Roderich opened his mouth to ask how in the world a device used to shoot jets of water could possibly catch on fire, but shut it when he remembered that Gilbert was talking. If Gilbert had done something more strange than usual, it was best not to ask for the details.

"Please?" begged Gilbert. "I didn't _have_ to tell you that hint, you know. Besides, it's so fucking hot out..."

"Fine," Roderich said briskly, waving his hand as if Gilbert would vanish from his sight immediately.

Gilbert seemed surprised. "Really? You usually throw a bitchfest whenever I try to anything fun."

Roderich glared at him. "I know you're not going to leave regardless, so why should I waste my breath?"

Gilbert shrugged and leaned in the doorway. "I dunno. You think too much, Roddy." With a parting grin, he was gone. Roderich cringed when he realized that Gilbert would probably tear up the house to find the sprinkler.

_Oh, well_, he thought, slumping in his chair. _He would have done it regardless._

Amethyst eyes drifted to the neglected sheet of paper by the keyboard. He picked it up and carefully reviewed all of the names he had scrawled down in pencil. He was nearly positive that he had written down every nation that Gilbert could have a possible connection with, what was he doing wrong?

Sighing, Roderich picked up another pencil and flipped the sheet over. Hastily, he scrawled down the names of all the European countries he could think of. Crossing out the females, he realized that there were still a large amount of nations left. He briefly wondered if Gilbert's crush could have resided in Asia or the Americas, but he decided against it and went to work.

Half an hour later, most of the names were crossed out (those already with partners of their own that Roderich knew of), and this left Roderich utterly puzzled. None of these countries seemed to have any type of history with the Prussian at all.

Roderich frowned. Gilbert could have at least given him a better hint.

Hint...hint...

Suddenly, Roderich realized that none of the names he had written were correct. Could it have been possible that he'd forgotten a country?

He closed his eyes, visualizing the map of Europe in his head. It was burned into his brain, there was no way that he could have missed any of them. Unless Gilbert meant that he hadn't listed the former Kingdom of Prussia.

Roderich snorted. It would be just like the moron to fall in love with himself.

Giving up for the day, Roderich exited his office and headed towards the front door, holding a book in his hands. If anything, he should babysit Gilbert for Ludwig, and get some reading time in. After all, he hadn't done as much damage as he possibly could've. It was a relief, yet oddly suspicious at the same time.

As Roderich pushed open the front door, he was greeted with a blast of humidity from the afternoon sun. However, the heat wasn't the first thing that irked him.

Gilbert was running in circles on his front lawn, the sprinkler shooting jets of water in a fan-like structure. Even though Roderich had the urge to be annoyed, he couldn't help but grin at the sight of Gilbert acting like a child. For someone over 700 years old, he really didn't seem to grow up.

Settling into one of the wicker chairs on the front porch, Roderich opened the pages of his book and began to read. It was quiet outside, and a breeze had started up, toying with his chestnut-brown hair. He closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the peace of the moment, with the sprinkler's whirring off and nothing but the sound of the breeze...wait...

A sudden burst of wet, cold liquid hit Roderich dead-on in the face. Jumping a foot in the air, he dropped the book and his eyes shot open. Violet met crimson, and once again Roderich was drowning in those mystifying eyes...

"Gilbert!" he screamed, coming to his senses as he fully grasped the sight before him.

Shaking with laughter, Gilbert's eyes were shining and his grin was as wide as ever as he held the sprinkler only about ten centimeters from Roderich's face. Laughing maniacally, the Prussian stood up, smirking down at Roderich.

"It was too tempting," he admitted, holding up his hands (and the sprinkler). "Besides, you look like you could use a little loosening up."

An icy purple glare was aimed his way.

"...Or, a lot."

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, you are _dead_."

Gilbert stared at him in confusion, but as Roderich rose from his (now soaking wet) chair, his face broke into a wild grin. The confused Prussian stared in shock at the strange smile playing upon the brunette's usually pouty lips, but managed to dodge a blow when Roderich suddenly lunged at him.

Laughing to himself, Gilbert jumped from the porch and sprinted across the lawn. The sun was high in the sky, there were only thin filaments of clouds in the pale blue sky that day. The heat didn't seem to stop the two laughing nations, however. Gilbert was running for his life, Roderich hot on his heels, with the sprinkler drenching them both completely.

Suddenly, Roderich's grip landed on Gilbert's tight black T-shirt, sending them both sprawling to the ground in a soggy heap. The silverette quickly rolled away, reaching for the sprinkler, only to have it snatched away by Roderich.

The crazy look in the aristocrat's eyes only made Gilbert laugh harder until his sides felt as if they were splitting. He was being soaked and chilled to the bone with sharp jets of water, but he made no move to get up from the warm grass.

He moved quickly to grab at Roderich, succeeding in pinning him to the ground. Attempting to stare him down did little good, for he burst out laughing a few moments later.

"Gilbert, why on_ earth_..."

"That stupid little curl of yours," Gilbert managed to choke out in between bouts of laughter, "it's still up!"

Indeed, Mariazell stood tall and proud as usual, with the rest of Roderich's bangs hanging in his eyes.

Roderich glared at him, but couldn't help his smile from spreading over his face. "So this is what we've been reduced to," he said, meeting Gilbert's scarlet gaze. "We go from fighting over Silesia to fighting over a sprinkler."

Gilbert grinned. "Yeah, pretty much, Specs." He moved aside in order for Roderich to sit up. "Old habits never die hard, ya'know?"

Roderich nodded. "It's very true, seeing how you're still here pestering me for entertainment."

Gilbert's face seemed to fall. "Aw, come on, Roddy! I thought you _finally_ were able to take that stick outta your ass and..."

"I was _kidding_, you moron," Roderich said in amusement.

The Prussian glared at him, but didn't say anything.

"What's this? The almighty Gilbert Beilschmidt is out of insults to give his nemisis? What next? The world will flip on it's axis?"

"No," said a deep voice from behind, startling Roderich. Before he could do anything, a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist and he felt hot breath on his neck. "But the country of Austria might."

Roderich would deny the deep blush that shot across his face for the rest of his life.

"Gilbert, wait! How'd you get...stop! Put me _down_...agh!"

The Prussian had managed to lift a flailing Roderich up into the air with strange skill, throwing him carelessly over one shoulder.

"Oof!" hissed Roderich as his chin hit Gilbert's back. "What was _that_ for, you _arsch_?"

Gilbert chuckled in reply. "No reason. Just felt like it."

"That _is_ a reason..." Roderich grumbled.

"Hey, Four Eyes, why don't you just shut up and..._fuck_! Ah, _Gott_, Roddy, I'm not going to kidnap you or anything. Stop with the kicking!"

Roderich refused to listen and carelessly kicked Gilbert in the shins again. "Make me."

"Wow, you're acting like a four year old," the silverette commented in amusement.

"Welcome to my life," Roderich grumbled.

They both didn't realize that the sprinkler was still occasionally spraying them with water droplets. Gilbert glanced over his shoulder to meet a pair of disgruntled violet eyes. He smirked, and the eyes narrowed. It was then that the Prussian decided that purple was his favorite color. After Prussian blue.

"Okay," Gilbert said, shifting Roderich's body weight on his shoulder, "let's go take you back inside before you realize that you had a nice time today and decide to get pissy again."

"Hey...!" Roderich began to protest, but suddenly, a deep, stoic voice interrupted them.

"So this is where you ran off to?" it asked in poorly hidden amusement.

Roderich's head snapped up and he craned his neck as best as he could to face the owner of the familiar voice.

"Aw, West, can't you at least let me have a little bit of fun?" whined Gilbert, casting a pleading glance at his younger brother.

"I told you to give him at least one day of relaxation before seeing you again," Ludwig said in a tired voice, massaging his temple with his fingers.

Roderich could picture Gilbert's features crumpling into a pout. "But _West_, he was having fun! Weren't ya, Roddy?"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "What exactly _are_ you two doing, anyway?"

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know?" Gilbert said, a little too happily in Roderich's opinion.

Roderich groaned. "I _was_ having a calm day until he decided to drench us with a sprinkler."

Gilbert turned around and stared at him. "But you were _smiling_!"

"So?" Roderich huffed.

"So, I get to come back tomorrow," Gilbert said gleefully, dropping Roderich to the ground in a very ungraceful manner. The Austrian let out a string of muttered curses and looked up only in time to see Gilbert running down the driveway after Ludwig, babbling on and on about...well, probably nothing.

Roderich rose gingerly to his feet, bearing the full brunt of Gilbert's hyperactivity. Turning around to go back inside to the air conditioning, he froze when he heard Gilbert's words.

"...Roddy's so cute when he blushes, West. He does it a lot, y'know."

"Hn."

And of course, Roderich didn't blush then, either.

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_**A/N: YEY OOC RODERICH! *cue squealing fangirls***_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Woooo band camp is over durrhurrhurr c:**_

_**And OMG, thank you so much to all you lovely readers/favorite-ers/reviewers/etc! Your feedback is what keeps me writing 3**_

_**...I'll shut up now.**_

_**

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The morning sun streaming through her blinds warmed Elizaveta's eyelids and coaxed her awake. Her sleepy green eyes were barely visible beneath her fluttering eyelids, but the sound of her cell phone vibrating on the nightstand jolted them open. She reached across the wooden surface for her pink Razor and flipped it open. "Hello?" she asked groggily.

"Elizaveta, I'm sorry...did I wake you?"

"No!" she said hurriedly, "it's only ten, Roderich. So what's up?" She sat up in bed, wide awake, eagerly anticipating any further news.

"If you're sure," Roderich said before clearing his throat. "Anyway, you told me to call you the next time I saw Gilbert."

"Mhmm?" she said, trying to contain her excitement.

"Well...he came over yesterday in the afternoon."

"Oh my gosh! Is he still there?" she squealed.

"What? Of course not, why would he?" the Austrian asked in confusion.

Elizaveta deadpanned. Her ex-husband was a lot more dense than she had thought.

"Forget it. What'd he come over for?"

Roderich poured out the sprinkler story to Elizaveta, not seeming to notice her muffled giggles.

"So, Ludwig had to drag him away?"

"Not really, he just dropped me and left," Roderich replied dryly.

"Ah," she replied.

"But he did give me a hint to the person he...well, is apparently infatuated with," Roderich added quietly.

"He _did_?"

"Mhmm. Apparently, it's a male whom I did not write down on my list," Roderich said sheepishly.

"Well, that seems...wait, you _showed_ him your list?" Elizaveta asked incredulously.

"No, he picked it up!" Roderich interjected. "I swear, he seemed oddly happy that I was going to all that trouble."

The Hungarian facepalmed. "Roderich, you are..."  
"But I don't know who else it could be," he admitted, interrupting Elizaveta. "I've thought of everybody."

"But apparently, you haven't," she replied. "And look, Roderich, once you figure out who this guy is, what are you going to do? Gilbert obviously _wants_ you to know, so you can't get back at him for pissing you off by using that information, can you?"

Roderich was quiet. Elizaveta had a point, as usual, but he really didn't know how to answer that question.

"I don't know," he replied after some time, "honestly. It's just been an interesting tidbit of information I want to find out, that's all."

"Mhmm. Sure," Elizaveta said in a bored tone. "Look, if Gilbert ends up with this guy, are you going to be happy?"

"Why would I _care_?" Roderich asked. "Maybe Gilbert would go bug _him_ for a change, you think?"

Elizaveta shook her head. "Whatever you say, Roderich."

The Austrian sighed. "Look, obviously there's something I'm not getting. But I do want to find out, and when I do, I'm not going to do anything to mess it up for him. Even though I hate him. Okay, Elizaveta?"

"Like I said, whatever you say," she repeated. Suddenly, a beeping came from her phone, and she saw a call waiting. "Hey, Rod, I have to get going. I'll call you later, okay? Bye."

"Okay...goodb-"

The line went dead.

Roderich stared at his cell phone for a moment before quickly pocketing it. Elizaveta's question had gotten to him, though. How would this benefit him in any way?

Well, Gilbert would be out of his hair, for one. Roderich would be celebrating when Gilbert finally started lavishing his attention and annoying habits on someone else for a change...wouldn't he?

As much as he tried, he couldn't seem to picture Gilbert in a stable relationship with anybody. The Prussian was very independent and quite egotistical, so he couldn't see what Gilbert would get out of a relationship.

It wasn't like he cared, though. Even though Gilbert wasn't bad-looking, his personality was still pretty strange. But he was different, and that was a bit admirable if you looked at it from the right perspective. And the tousled silver hair, the deep red eyes, that crooked smile, and...

Roderich mentally slapped himself. How could he even stand to think such things about his nemesis without getting sick?

He sat back down at the computer in his office, pulling up Gilbert's blog. A new post had been added...quite late last night, Roderich noted. He clicked on it, and a short paragraph followed by a video appeared.

_To the followers of the Awesome Me,_

_ Today I kicked Roddy's pansy ass at sprinkler wars. (I know you're reading this, Specs.) Also, I fed Gilbird some pancakes today. He liked it. But he spit up some syrup on me._

Roderich grimaced.

_But Kiku's been sending me some kickass music. So, look at what I decided to do with it._

The video clip was pasted next.

Roderich clicked on it caustiously. A clip of Gilbert appeared, in what looked to be his bedroom (it was messy and cluttered). He wore only a white T-shirt and boxers printed with the Prussian flag. His silver hair was disheveled, as if he had woken up only moments before. Glancing at the time, eleven o' clock, Roderich assumed this to be a logical hypothesis.

Gilbert grinned, red eyes flashing, at the camera and reached over, clicking a button on another device. Probably a computer, Roderich concluded.

Gilbert on the screen stood up straight, looking down at the floor, hands at his sides. Suddenly, bright-sounding music began to come through the speakers, and Gilbert snapped his head up.

And then he was dancing. _Really_ dancing.

Gilbert Beilschmidt, the self-proclaimed manly man, was dancing to _Japanese techno_. In his boxers. For a video camera. On the _Internet_.

Jesus H. Christ on a bicycle.

Roderich stared in utter horror at the sight before him, of Gilbert shaking his hips and waving his arms like a madman. However, he was too stunned to move, and let the video play for all three minutes of the song.

He was officially scarred for life.

Suddenly, as Gilbert was twirling in for one of the final poses, he heard a door click in the video. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" came Ludwig's exasperated tone. The shocked blond came into view moments later, his ice-blue eyes wide with disbelief (or was it annoyance? Had this happened before?).

The song ended just then, and Gilbert whipped his head around to face his brother, unseen to the audience. "Fuck off, West, I'm shaking my moneymaker," he said casually, and his brother's palm met his forehead.

Yep, this seemed all to natural for the German brothers.

Walking to the video camera, Gilbert stuck his tongue out obnoxiously at the lens before the screen went dark.

Contemplating what he just saw, Roderich was just plain scared. Gilbert dancing, in boxers, nonetheless, was something that nobody, human or nation, should ever have the misfortune to witness.

He shook his head and shut the computer back down, promising not to return to that corrupted site for the rest of the day.

However, the hypnotic image of Gilbert's hips shaking wildly while he grinned like an idiot had burned itself into Roderich's retinas, and now, his mind. Unable to focus on his two hours of what was supposed to be solid piano practicing, Roderich found his right hand plinking out the notes to the annoying pop song Gilbert had been dancing to. Annoyed with himself, Roderich slammed the cover over the keys and stood up to pace the tiled floor by his piano. He had found himself doing this more and more recently.

_Honestly, that damn blog is making Gilbert irritate me even when he's not around me,_ Roderich fumed inside his head. _It's like I can't get him out of my head..._

He froze in place, immediately trying to forget the thought as quickly as it arrived. There was no way he could ever obsess over Gilbert like that, not at all.

Still...

Roderich shook his head as if it would empty the thoughts from his mind. No. There had to be a logical explanation. And after all, it was only a matter of time until Gilbert could move on to his silly little crush, and then Roderich would have peace for once.

Yes, he thought, that was a relaxing thought. He started to think of all of the things he could do once he was positive that Gilbert would be out of his hair.

_Piano practice...work...hm, a chocolate cake would be perfect for celebrating the loss of Gilbert...more piano practice...and then work again..._

Roderich frowned. Was he really that much of a routine person? Sitting down on the sofa across the room, he contemplated this. As much as he hated to admit it, he let himself shamefully decide that the most interesting and...well, strange, parts of his day revolved around Gilbert. He never, _ever_ would have gotten into a sprinkler war if it hadn't been for the random ideas of the Prussian.

Biting his lip, Roderich wondered _why_ exactly Gilbert had chosen him, of all people, to annoy. Of course, Roderich was pretty much known by all the other nations as an aristocrat who was usually too 'uptight' around anything fun, so he had always assumed that it was Gilbert's hobby to antagonize him on a daily basis.

But _why_?

He remembered his conversation with Elizaveta from earlier on. What _would_ he do if Gilbert had found someone else to annoy and left him in the dust? He would finally have his peace and quiet, this was true, but all of the excitement would be gone from his life. And although admitting this brought a rather prominent shade of red to the Austrian's cheeks; he would be a little disappointed.

Okay, the attention was nice. And sure, Gilbert was a huge pain in the ass for the most part, but he remembered the sprinkler the day before. Would he ever have a day like that again if Gilbert left him?

_So, you're worried about him leaving you?_

The tiny voice in the back of Roderich's head startled him, from the sudden realization or the brutal honesty he didn't know, but it shocked him. It was one of those emotions he had tried to repress; after all, Gilbert had hated him for centuries and vice versa, but he couldn't imagine how it had come to be. They had always been fighting and arguing, either settling it through physical battles or heated debates, and both hated to see the other triumph. So how had Gilbert Beilschmidt, the personification of the former kingdom of Prussia, become a necessity in Roderich's life? It was like he had some strange hold over him...rendering him speechless, even, like the incident back in the office only the day before...

Roderich couldn't believe himself. He was suggesting to himself that he might actually consider Gilbert Beilschmidt as something other than an enemy? They weren't friends, at least he didn't think so.

He tried to see the situation from Gilbert's perspective. Knowing his inability to take a loss, he assumed that he was still Gilbert's usual enemy, not necessarily a rival, but someone he had to fight, not compete with.

And even now, since Gilbert technically wasn't a nation anymore, they had resorted to petty arguments and almost constant bickering. Roderich had decided long ago that it was for old time's sake and because the Prussian was just so damn annoying. In all honestly, he couldn't imagine his life and history _without _Gilbert.

He would never tell another soul this, not even himself, just how much he needed – not wanted - Gilbert in his life.

The questions were still floating around in his mind when the front door opened. Roderich was too engrossed in his own dilemma to hear the slamming of the door or the loud, clunking noise of combat boots on tile, but the sudden sight of the very eyes that had been haunting his mind caused him to jump a foot in the air.

"Hey, Specs," said the annoyingly happy voice of Gilbert, and suddenly, Roderich felt a strange wave of emotion surge through his veins. It was quite odd, a feeling he couldn't place. He didn't feel instant disgust and hatred anymore, but he did identify one feeling.

Annoyance.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, what the hell are you doing here?"

"You ask me that every day even though I never answer it," the silverette replied, his grin as bright as ever. "But since you seem pretty out of it today, I'll tell you. I figured that you'd get lonely without my awesomeness here to keep you occupied all day."

Roderich rolled his eyes, trying to hide the surprise that Gilbert seemed to know exactly what he was thinking about.

"Precisely, Gilbert," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The Prussian chuckled. "Aw, Roddy, you can't deny that we had fun yesterday. And I promise, we can have fun today, too." Gilbert rose and moved behind the armrest of the sofa where Roderich's head lay. In his ear, he murmured, "And I know a _lot_ of ways to have fun, you know."

Violet eyes widened in horror, and Roderich sprang bolt upright. He whipped his head around to send Gilbert his best death glare. "Gilbert Beilschmidt, that was..."

"Uncalled for? Utterly perverse? Damn, Four Eyes, don't get so worked up. I was just messing with you." Gilbert held his hands up in a surrendering motion. His eyes flashed in Roderich's direction. "Although, I'm game if you are..."

"I'm not," Roderich said quickly, "but anyway, now that you've decided to ruin my day with your presence, I might as well ask you something while you're here."

Gilbert jumped onto the couch and pulled his legs up and crossed them Indian style. Roderich didn't even bother trying to tell the Prussian to get his boots off the sofa, he was much too focused on how his mouth was moving faster than his mind, and where exactly he was going with this.

"Hey...Roddy? Is everything okay? You look kind of...well, out of it." Gilbert raised an eyebrow, looking oddly concerned.

Roderich shook his head. "Never mind that, Gilbert. It's just..." He trailed off, staring at the man seated in front of him. To say that Gilbert was unattractive was a lie – Roderich could even see that he was very good-looking, attractive even. After all, he was quite muscular, he had those exotic red eyes, the messy yet somehow cute mop of silver hair, and that smile...his bright grin that made Roderich seem to melt every time it was aimed in his direction. And that voice...the low baritone that send shivers running through his spine...

The brunette instantly snapped himself out of his daze. There was no way he could actually feel something like that towards Gilbert. But that was the thing – he didn't know. He had no idea what exactly Gilbert Beilschmidt meant to him.

It didn't help that Gilbert's presence alone was unnerving him. The way his crimson eyes followed him and lingered...Roderich wondered what that would be like once Gilbert was occupied with his someone else.

The sudden thought of Gilbert lavishing someone else with his constantly annoying presence set off a twinge of a newfound emotion in Roderich's heart. It wasn't often that he was very possessive, and he couldn't fathom what had compelled him to do so this time.

"Roddy?" Gilbert was starting to notice the confusion and hidden emotion behind Roderich's eyes.

The Austrian opened his mouth, and in his haste, the words seemed to slur together.

"Gilbert, what am I to you?"

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_**A/N: Nyehehehe. I'm trying to get the plot to go someplace, yay! 3;;**_

_**ANYWAY, this video was the basis of my idea for this fanfic. The comments helped too x3 **_

_**http:/ www . youtube . com /watch ?v=oKoHAz5PZ34**__** &feature=related**_


	7. Chapter 7

**_A/N: I'm BAAAACKKKKK!_**

**_/brick'd/_**

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Gilbert's scarlet eyes went slightly wide as the question hit him. "What?" he asked, in quiet disbelief.

Roderich drew a shaky breath. "I just want to know what the real reason is for you, well...being you."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Roddy, you're not making any sense, as usual."

The Austrian rolled his eyes. "Look, Gilbert, be serious. What do I _mean_ to you? Am I still your enemy? Is the real reason for your constant presence here just to annoy me or are we past the fighting? I can never tell anymore..." Roderich trailed off, realizing that he'd been rambling. He stared at Gilbert's face, which was cloaked in an unreadable expression. Slowly, all traces of his usual grin slipped from the Prussian's face, and his eyes held the unmistakable emotion of weariness.

"You...you really don't know, Roddy?" Gilbert asked quietly, not averting his gaze from the brunette's. His eyes looked pleading...though Roderich realized that a look like that was extremely rare for Gilbert to show.

"No, I don't," Roderich said helplessly. "It's just a thought...I...I didn't mean any offense..."  
"I know," Gilbert said dismissively, rising from the couch. "But anyway, you shouldn't be asking me that question. You've got it all figured out, and your prissy ego won't let you admit it, am I right?"

His tone was soft, but there was a steely edge to it. Roderich stared up at him, shocked into silence. "Gilbert, I don't know what you mean," he finally admitted.

Gilbert broke the gaze. "How?" he asked. "How on earth can you say that to me after _centuries_ of knowing me?" He turned his head again so his eyes fixed on Roderich's. "You know me better than anyone else on this goddamn earth, Roderich. So do the world a favor; stop lying to me...and to yourself."

And without a backwards glance, he was gone – out of the room, the hallway, and out the front door. Roderich stared wordlessly after him, his amethyst eyes wide with shock. He had never seen Gilbert act that serious in...well, ever. It was always his childish attitude and obnoxious behavior that drove Roderich up the wall, and he had never once seen the Prussian so worked up over something as simple as his question.

The brunette slid his glasses off, polishing the lenses with the hem of his button-down shirt. He could still hear every word of Gilbert's leaving speech ringing in his ears, burning themselves into his brain. He had always thought that his and Gilbert's relationship was one of old rivalry, and therefore they were always disagreeing. Well, obviously, Roderich thought, they were complete opposites.

And still, seeing Gilbert's back to him as he left had made Roderich's heart twinge. He hadn't been able to ignore the impulse to reach out and drag him back, but he had remained motionless instead. And now, Roderich was beginning to realize that he'd done the wrong thing.

He walked across the room, hoping to ease the stress on his mind with the gentle notes of the piano, but the music wouldn't come to him. His fingers fumbled, his mind wandered, and his lower lip was trembling. He was _not_ going to get emotional over Gilbert Beilschmidt. But why did it _hurt_ so much?

Elizaveta was flipping through her photo albums that displayed her countless hours of hard work. Of course, most of them were of Roderich, but there were many others. Oh, this was a sweet one of Ludwig and Feliciano...aww.

Her cell phone rang as she was looking, and she was surprised to see Ludwig's name on the Caller ID screen. Nonetheless, she flipped open her cell phone and accepted the call.

"Hey, Ludwig."

"Elizaveta." The deep voice at the other end of the line sounded tired, and somewhat relieved that she had answered. "I can't believe that I'm doing this, but I need your help. Badly."

The Hungarian frowned. "What's wrong, Ludwig? You sound exhausted."

"I am," the German admitted. "_Brüder_ came home early today, and he's been locked up in his room ever since. He hasn't even yelled at me to cook anything...do you know if something happened?"

Elizaveta felt a rising feeling of dread. "No...but I have a feeling. Was he at Roderich's today?"

"Mhmm," Ludwig replied in confirmation. "In all honesty, I really don't think that he gets it yet..."

"How could he _not_?" Elizaveta exclaimed. "All the evidence is right there; _Gott_, he's so dense..."

"I know," Ludwig said tiredly. "And so does _brüder_, but he's not giving up..."

"That wouldn't be like him to do so," the Hungarian mused. "Anyway, Kiku and I have been paying close attention to this as well, and we thought it was only a matter of time, but I guess not..."

"It needs to happen," Ludwig urged. "Please. You haven't seen _brüder _when he's miserable. It's torturous." It was the first time Elizaveta had heard Ludwig seem so desperate.

"Okay, okay," she replied. "We're going to need a plan to get them back in the same room. My guess is that Roderich will be forced to come to terms with everything once he stops seeing Gilbert for a few days, you know?"

"Hn," Ludwig grunted in agreement. "You do have a point..."

"I'm a professional at this," Elizaveta said, beaming. "Look, just leave the details to me. But I'l definitely need your help, okay? And maybe Feli's..."

"What?"

"You'll see~"

The next three days seemed to drag by for Roderich. The deafening silence (Roderich hadn't known it was possible until now), the unbearable summer heat outside, and the complete lack of anything interesting going on was enough to literally bore the Austrian to death. He finally had been forced into defeat, and now he knew the one-hundred percent truth. He missed Gilbert.

He didn't know when the Prussian had become vital in his life, but it had happened. And for some reason, Roderich knew that the strange emotions he had been feeling recently all had to do with Gilbert. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he couldn't deny that he really did care for Gilbert.

He grabbed the fluffy purple couch pillow and smacked himself in the face with it. How could he possibly be thinking like that? This was _Gilbert_ he was thinking about. This was his constant pain-in-the-ass problem that refused to go away.

But now that it was gone, Roderich had the strangest feeling. He wanted it back, and he wanted it now. And for some unfathomable reason, he couldn't explain _why_.

It seemed that whenever he did try to find the explanation, his heart wrenched in on itself, and he wasn't willing to follow through with the pain that it took to admit it.

He let his face fall into his hands. He was absolutely hopeless.

Hopeless because he was never truly honest with anyone, himself included, anymore.

Hopeless because he seemed to have lost all reason within him.

And most importantly, hopeless because he wanted Gilbert Beilschmidt back, goddamnit.

Miles away, a frustrated Hungarian was texting fast and furiously. She knew that she couldn't leave something this important all up to Ludwig.

_Feli! I need you to go over to Ludwig's today, please. We're having a reunion! :)_

_ Ve~ Elizaveta, I'm already at Doitsu's house~_

_ ...Oh. Well, I'll talk to you when I get there. I have a special job for you._

_ Can I make pasta, too~?_

_ Sure._

Roderich got the text a few minutes later.

_Hey...could you stop by today? Elizaveta's planned some kind of get-together..._

_ I'll be there._

Roderich ran his fingers quickly through his tousled locks and grabbed his violet suit jacket (yes, he proudly wore purple) before hurrying out the front door. He had a feeling that Elizaveta was up to something, and he wouldn't mind helping Ludwig out if it meant there was food there.

His stomach rumbled, as if in agreement.

Luckily, Ludwig's house wasn't _too_ far away, and he was relieved to see that he had made it at a semi-reasonable hour. The lights were still on, and Roderich could hear the faint voices from behind the door. He smiled to himself, it made him feel like he was walking towards home. Ludwig and Elizaveta, and even Gilbert (though he hated admitting it) were the closest thing that he would ever have to a family.

His stomach clenched at the thought of Gilbert, and a wave of guilt rippled through his body. He hadn't meant to offend Gilbert, really, he hadn't. But strangely enough, he couldn't help but feel ashamed and dishonest. Was there a reason why he couldn't say certain things to the Prussian?

The obvious answer was yes, since Gilbert was annoying as all holy hell, but...

Roderich sighed, and combed his fingers through his mahogany locks once again. He wouldn't have to worry about it tonight, after all. Knowing Gilbert, he'd probably have left already to go blow off steam while out drinking with Francis and Antonio.

He rang the doorbell once, and was almost immediately greeted by the familiar warmth of Ludwig's home, the faint aroma of Italian food, and a hyperactive Feliciano splattered in flour.

The beam on the Italian's face and the bright glow in his eyes said enough, but he pulled Roderich into a bone-crushing hug regardless.

"Ah~!" Feliciano gushed, ignoring the Austrian's frantic gasps for air, "you're here!"

"H-hello, Feliciano," Roderich acknowledged, smiling warmly. He glanced down quickly, and winced upon seeing the powdery substance smeared on the front of his jacket.

"Come in!" the excited Italian urged him, stepping aside as he entered. Roderich couldn't help the smile that spread across his features, Feliciano truly was a little bundle of happiness. Even now, with a white apron that rivaled his childhood garment so much, he was still a child at heart. And the wide grin that stretched across his delicate features was just so familiar and kind, it made Roderich's worries evaporate.

"Doitsu!" the excited Italian cried, streaking down the hallway. "Roderich's here~!"

The brunette was left alone in the quiet hallway, and he took the time leaning against the banister to shimmy out of his violet jacket (still dusted in flour) and hang it up on the nearby coat hook. Looking around, he concluded that it had been too long since he had visited the German brothers, and Elizaveta for that matter.

No sooner than he thought so, the Hungarian girl appeared seemingly out of nowhere and threw her arms around Roderich's waist. "Hey!" she said happily, giving him a tight squeeze.

It was then that Roderich remembered why he disliked overly-expressive hugging.

"Hello, Elizaveta," he replied calmly, giving her a halfhearted hug in return. She pulled away and scrutinized his face, emerald eyes deep in thought.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"Nothing...nothing," Roderich said tiredly, not wanting to drag his ex-wife-turned-close-friend into his dilemma, even though talking about it did seem quite appealing to him.

She raised a thin brown eyebrow in response. Her look clearly stated, 'I don't believe you'.

"I mean it!" Roderich protested weakly.

"Roderich Edelstein, I was married to you for several decades. I know how bad you are at lying, so just spit it out before I get my frying pan."

A cold chill went through Roderich's spine at the mere mention of her WMD, and he attempted to look Elizaveta in the eye. "I'm just...going through some issues right now, and I don't really want to talk about it."

"That's also a lie," she said in amusement, a small smile quirking on her lips. "Come on, Roderich, we're all here together again, just tell me. It'll make you feel a lot better, I promise."

She then sat herself down on the small couch in the hallway, patting the spot beside her as an invite to Roderich. He sighed and caved in, slumping into the cushions. It only served as a reminder to how mentally tired he really was.

"So, tell me," Elizaveta began, "would your problems begin to involve Gilbert, by any chance?"

Surprised at the bluntness and the accuracy of her guess, Roderich did his best to mask him reaction. "He's the source of _all _my troubles, Elizaveta."

"That's why I said so," she said lightheartedly, "but I think you know what I mean."

"What do I mean?" Roderich asked.

"Well," she said uncertainly, "Ludwig called me for advice when Gilbert came home all depressed a few days ago. I figured that you'd finally snapped and killed one of his birds or something, but I think I understand this better now."

"Hm," Roderich replied, at a loss for anything more to say.

"My guess," she continued, "is that you obviously don't understand anything that isn't said bluntly and directly to your face."

Roderich glared at her. "Are you calling me oblivious?"

"Well, you picked up on that one pretty fast..."

"_How_ am I oblivious?" Roderich complained.

"Well, let's see. Gilbert has been trying to get...something...across to you for the past...oh, I don't know, _decades_, and you sit there and pretend to not understand and brush him off as an annoyance."

"But I don't understand!" Roderich said helplessly.

"Yes, you do," she retorted. "And I can't believe I'm saying this, but it isn't fair to Gilbert, either. I really think you need to talk to him."

"But he's not..." Roderich began, but stopped abruptly as he heard footsteps on the staircase.

"Hey, West? I think we're all out of beer..."

The voice stopped when scarlet eyes locked with amethyst, and Roderich suddenly felt as if his heart stopped.

"Gilbert?"

It was a timid whisper, and he couldn't believe himself for being so...so...

"Roderich, stop blushing. It's making me nauseous."

"Elizaveta!"

"Hey, Roddy," Gilbert said, his face still painted with an expression of surprise, but his voice held a melancholic monotone that Roderich had rarely heard before.

The silence and tension seemed almost tangible after a few long seconds, until suddenly, Feliciano rushed into the hallway, a tired-looking Ludwig trailing behind him.

"Ve~ dinner's almost ready!" the Italian said cheerfully, latching onto his beloved 'Doitsu's' arm. This caused the German's pale features to turn cherry-red, clashing with his blond hair.

Roderich couldn't hold back another smile at the sight of the two of them. Even though Ludwig had always denied it, he could see that their relationship was a special one indeed – and even if they were 'just friends', as Ludwig had so often said, it was obvious that it was still a rare bond between two nations.

Prying himself quickly yet smoothly from the arms of his 'friend', Ludwig muttered several incoherent excuses under his breath before turning to face Gilbert, who was still leaning against the banister.

"_Brüder, _I already told you that you had the last beer. And if you want more, I'm not emptying my wallet solely for that again."

Gilbert shrugged silently and headed back up the stairs.

"Ve~ Doitsu's brother is quiet today," Feliciano pondered out loud. "I wonder why?"

"Yes, don't we all?" Elizaveta said, glaring at Roderich in her peripheral vision. She then headed towards the kitchen, Ludwig following her. "Feli, could you talk with Roderich for a while until I get back?" she asked sweetly.

"Sure~!" the Italian said cheerfully, turning to give Roderich a bright smile.

Roderich grinned back. "Feliciano...I must say, I'm quite happy for you, and Ludwig, of course."

A faint dusting of pink spread on Feliciano's cheeks. "Ve~ thank you. Doitsu is so nice to me, we're best friends, too, you know~"

The Austrian's smile turned genuine. "I can see," he replied. "It's quite obvious that he loves you, you can see it in his eyes."

Feliciano giggled, looking up to meet Roderich's gaze with his warm amber eyes. "It's a nice feeling, don't you agree?"

"I...I wouldn't know," Roderich said, "but I can imagine."

Laughing out loud, the Italian shook his head. "But you do know, of course you do. You even said it, you can read their eyes."

Roderich stared in puzzlement.

Feliciano continued slowly, yet his eyes were shining. "The look that you say Doitsu gives me...I see it in Doitsu's brother's eyes whenever he looks at you."

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_**A/N: LOL I can't write angst ;; or romance, for that matter.**_

_**Yay for this story actually going somewhere!  
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	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N**_**: Mein Gott, it's been way too long. I've missed this story, so please don't kill me! D:**

**Anyway, sorry this is shorter than the last few chapters ;; darn school.**

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Roderich felt as if he was drowning on land. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He tried to remember the exact words the Italian had said. No matter how many times his mind replayed the words, he couldn't believe it. No, he refused to believe it. Because there was no way, in heaven or in hell, that Gilbert Beilschmidt could _ever_…

"Ve, Roderich? Are you okay?"

Feliciano's concerned voice broke Roderich's trance, and he forced a shaky smile on his lips. "I'm fine," he said softly, and he edged past the Italian and up the long, narrow staircase. His mind was racing as he turned down one of the hallways. Why should he listen to Feliciano? After all, it was obvious that Gilbert hated him. Right?

Biting his lip, Roderich realized that along with all the other traits he had acquired as a nation in the past centuries, oblivion was by far the worst.

What _was_ so bad about it anyway?

A tiny corner of his mind nagged at him incessantly, and Roderich sighed in defeat. There really was nothing bad about it, after all. It was just a silly little crush, right? And the worst case scenario would be Gilbert's constant presence, and endless annoyance until he moved on.

He suddenly felt his heart twist. When Gilbert moved on to someone else…who would that be? Elizaveta, perhaps? Roderich tried to picture his life without Gilbert, who gave him something to do, someone who antagonized him, annoyed him, and tormented him.

Oddly enough, he couldn't imagine a thing.

He groaned to himself. Since when was the Prussian essential to his life? If it wasn't bad enough already, Gilbert's all-too-frequent visits actually gave him something to anticipate. It was the only break in his routine life where anything could happen. Knowing the silver-haired Prussian, it could literally be _anything_.

Something else entered his mind. According to Francis and Antonio on Gilbert's blog, Gilbert had been in love for quite some time. A sudden jolt went through Roderich's body.

The all-too-frequent visits.

The pictures.

The harassment.

_Mein Gott._

His amethyst eyes widened, and he froze with his hand on Gilbert's bedroom doorknob.

_"You didn't write _his_ name down."_

Gilbert Beilschmidt was in love with him.

It was as if he had been slapped in the face. Everything seemed to fall perfectly into place; the denial had been shoved aside.

But what was even more shocking than that was the sudden conclusion Roderich had come to in his own heart.

It was so pathetically sappy and cliché, but he was in love with Gilbert, too.

The thought that would have repulsed him earlier was only a weight on his heart, dragging him down. He needed to tell Gilbert, once and for all. His hand was still frozen on the doorknob. It was now or never.

Roderich decided that now was the time.

Without knocking, he gently turned the knob (which was thankfully unlocked) and opened the door into Gilbert's room. He was instantly greeted with dozens of posters (most of Gilbert himself, posing with several of his birds), a floor nearly covered in clothes and whatnot, and a Prussian sprawled on a king-size bed, with his iPod blaring some kind of heavy metal in his ears.

Roderich sighed and cautiously meandered his way through the mess that was Gilbert's bedroom. Now, his bedroom at home, it was perfectly spotless. It was quite ironic that he would be in…love…with someone who was the complete opposite?

Maybe opposites did attract after all?

Roderich sat down on the side of the rumpled bedspread (printed with the Prussian flag, of course) and picked up Gilbert's iPod. The song title rolled across the screen:

"My Song That Is Written By Me, For Me. Artist: Awesome Me."

The brunette groaned. He pressed the 'Pause' button, and Gilbert's head instantly shot up from the pillows.

"Hey, what the…oh. Hey, Specs."

His tone was uninterested, yet Roderich could sense a hint of sadness. When Gilbert reached for his iPod, Roderich unplugged the earphones and slipped the device in his pocket.

"Gilbert, we need to talk."

The Prussian scoffed and rolled his eyes. "No shit, Sherlock."

Roderich bit his lip. "Look, can I just talk to you seriously for five minutes, at least?" His tone was growing slightly irritated.

Gilbert sat up and pulled his earphones out. "Yeah, Roddy. Lay it on me."

Roderich stared at Gilbert. He saw crimson eyes empty of emotion and prepared to suffer a hard blow. It was the same expression he'd worn when he'd found out about the dissolution of Prussia.

"How long have you been in love with me?"

The words were blurted without the Austrian thinking. His eyes widened once the silence hit, and his heart pounded. Had he been wrong all along? Was Feli just lying? Was there really someone else…?

Gilbert finally let out a half-hearted laugh. "I don't know, Roddy. Maybe since I met you, which was only about…oh…three hundred years?"

Roderich raised his eyes to lock on Gilbert's. "Do you mean that?"

"Of course I mean it," Gilbert said, breaking the gaze. "Why the hell would I be saying this to you if it wasn't true?"

Roderich shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just a pansy-ass aristocrat who's been in denial for the past three centuries, and I just need to lighten up and finally believe that the person I love is actually in love with me."

Gilbert blinked once, and suddenly, the shine was back in his eyes. He rose from the bed and leaned closer to Roderich.

The scarlet eyes were once again boring into his soul, and this time, the Austrian didn't care if he could read his thoughts. He smiled back, just as cunning as Gilbert's smile was.

"You're _my_ pansy-ass aristocrat," Gilbert said in a low voice, and then he was kissing him at last.

At this point, Roderich didn't care if anyone was witnessing this. His fingers were grasping at the front of the Prussian's shirt, never to let go.

They pulled away, and Gilbert was grinning deviously. "Hey, does this mean I'm allowed to have a key to your house now?"

Roderich pouted. "You never seemed to have trouble getting in without one."

"True, true…does this mean I get to stay in _your_ room now?"

"Shut up."

It was passing seven-thirty now, and the topics for small-talk were running thin. Scratch that, there were none left. The three occupants of the dinner table sat silently, glancing at the two empty chairs in between bites of their dinner.

"Ve~ Doitsu, where are they?" Feliciano asked, pointing. "Don't they want pasta?"

Ludwig glanced at the worried Italian. "Yes, of course they do…they're just…erm…"

"Very busy," Elizaveta interjected, the beginnings of a devious smile on her face. Ludwig didn't bother to ask.

All of a sudden, two figures appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, West! Sorry I'm late, but pansy-ass and I had some important matters to…discuss." He turned to Roderich and winked, instantly causing the Austrian to facepalm.

Ludwig winced, Elizaveta grinned, and Feliciano clapped.

"Yay! Now we can all be together and eat~!" the Italian sang, jumping up and skipping to the kitchen.

Gilbert and Roderich silently took their seats. Ludwig raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"An hour, _bruder_? What on earth took you both an hour?"

"Making up."

"Making out."

Dead silence.

Roderich glared at Gilbert, who just shrugged. "What? It's true."

Ludwig massaged his temple with his fingers. "_Bruder_, I'm happy for you, but I don't need to know what you two get up to…"

"W…wait," Roderich protested weakly, "there really isn't anything…"

"It was awesome," Gilbert interrupted proudly, leaning back in his chair. "But then again, did you expect anything less, Roddy?" He shot him a triumphant glare.

The Austrian slumped in his chair. Why, why on earth couldn't Gilbert have at least _some_ modesty?

As the two German brothers argued on and on, Roderich wished more and more that he was out of that room and back in Gilbert's room with the Prussian's arms around his waist…

…He did not just think that.

Meanwhile, Elizaveta had left quietly to hurry upstairs. Entering Gilbert's room, she wrinkled her nose at the mess, and reached up into the corner of the walls to where a tiny video camera was perched. She pressed a button, and a tiny memory card popped out. Slipping it into her pocket, she grinned to herself.

There really were benefits to being one of the only female nations.

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**_A/N:_ Woo! One more chapter/omake, and I'll be done :3**


	9. OMAKE

A/N: I am so very sorry for the huge delay, but after seeing some really kind reviews in my inbox, I finally remembered this story and decided to finish up the omake. Thank you for all of your support, I was astounded at how many reviews this story got! And I'm not done with writing Prustria just yet; I'll write more of them in other stories soon. :D

OMAKE:

It had been a month since that day. Since then, no obvious changes in his daily life were visible to Roderich, save the increasing presence of Gilbert Beilschmidt in his home. He would come home after a long day's work at the UN to find Gilbert pulling beers out of his refrigerator and occasionally crashed on his couch, passed out after getting wickedly drunk. The tent that had once perched on Roderich's grand piano became Gilbert's makeshift bedroom on most of the nights he stayed over (after Roderich kicked him out of the bedroom). When Roderich stayed at Gilbert's, however, he couldn't kick the Prussian out. The Austrian had found sleep a nearly impossible feat when sharing the bed with Gilbert, who had a tendency to kick, snore, and most importantly, hog every square inch of the covers.

"Really, Gilbert!" Roderich yelled in exasperation one morning, sitting up and attempting to gather the covers from the dead-set grip of his partner. When this attempt was deemed unsuccessful, he furiously grabbed his pillow and began beating the Prussian's head. "Wake up, you damned idiot, honestly..."

Gilbert stirred slightly and rose slightly from his pillow. He tilted his head back and yawned loudly before making eye contact with Roderich. Cuddling his pillow against him, Gilbert sent his boyfriend a smirk. "What's up, Specs? Wanna cuddle and all that sappy shit?"

"I most certainly do not!" replied Roderich in a flustered tone. "I just don't find it fair in the slightest that I'm the one doing all of the work in this house - say, making the beds, for instance - to have you show up and..." Roderich waved his hands wildly, frustratedly searching for the word.

Gilbert shifted to prop his head up with his hand, still laying on his stomach. "Destroy everything?" he finished.

"Yes, precisely!" Roderich leaned back against the headboard and reached for his glasses on the nightstand. He ran his fingers through his tousled, russet hair. He turned his eyes to meet Gilbert's.

Gilbert groaned. "Oh, Gott. What do you want from me? Do I have to start doing housework?"

"I would appreciate it very much, yes. I even make your bed, you know. At your house."

The Prussian scowled. "Do I have to wear one of those slutty-slut-whore dresses while I make the bed? Like, those maids dresses that Francis keeps in his closet?"

Roderich shuddered at the thought of Francis's maid dresses, but continued regardless. "No, you don't have to wear a dress. I'd be a bit horrified if you did."

"Whew!" Gilbert sighed in relief. "I'm not into all that kinky shit. Though, you have nice legs, it'd look better on you. And it'd probably fit you better. I don't think those tiny little things canfit over my rippling torso and bulging biceps."

The Austrian scoffed. "You are delusional."

"You seem to like it," Gilbert replied cheerfully. As he shifted to sit up, his legs tangled in the bedsheets, and he slid off of the side of the bed with a thud. Roderich shook his head in disapproval.

"Has anyone told you that you in yourself are a weapon of destruction?" he asked as Gilbert let out a string of curses.

"Besides you, maybe West," Gilbert replied, hauling himself back up. "But you've also called me a nuisance, an immature child, an obnoxious moron, a lowlife, a freeloader..."

"You can be," muttered Roderich, crossing his arms over the front of his silk, violet pajamas.

Gilbert continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "An arschloch, a walking disaster, a sex god..." He sat up and moved closer to Roderich until he was sitting as close as possible to him.

"True, yes, but..." Roderich suddenly paused, his thin eyebrows drawing together and his forehead creasing. "When on earth have I ever stooped to satisfy your ego in that way?"

Gilbert just grinned maliciously. "There are some things, Roddy baby, that you don't have to say."

"Baby?" spluttered Roderich. "I have been walking this earth for seven hundred odd years! I am by no means an infant! How dare you insult me like that!" He continued ranting angrily, and Gilbert sighed loudly.

"It's a term of endearment, Lord Stick-Up-Thine-Ass." The Prussian rolled his eyes and sat up, scratching his head and shaking his head at Roderich.

"That certainly wasn't!"

Gilbert chuckled. "Man, Specs, you really need to loosen up. You can be so cute sometimes, and then you act like this. It's like how Arthur acts with Alfred - you're such a woman, Roddy."

Roderich's face flushed a dark crimson. "No...no, that isn't true, either! I was once a great empire; how could you call that 'cute'?" He turned away and glanced angrily out the window.

"Oh yeah?" Gilbert's tone of voice was sly, and Roderich dreaded what was coming next. "What about when you told me you loved me last night? You were blushing like a little schoolgirl during her first time, Roddy."

"That was my first time," the Austrian mumbled bitterly. He then raised his voice and turned back to face Gilbert. "And you should just shut up! It's not like you ever say it to me!" He narrowed his eyes furiously.

Gilbert shrugged. "Sorry, Rod. Didn't know how much that meant to you. But, like I said, there are some things that you just don't have to say."

"And what in the name of the Empress is that supposed to mean?" snapped Roderich in reply.

Gilbert groaned. "You're still dense as fuck, aren't you?" He leaned in closer and reached out to hold Roderich's face gently as he kissed him. Because it was Gilbert, it was nothing innocent or romantic, but Roderich reacted all the same, slowly wrapping his arms around the Prussian's neck as he relaxed into the kiss and allowed his lips to part slightly against Gilbert's. Gilbert dipped him slightly back, scooting Roderich into his lap. They broke apart after several long moments and Roderich found himself staring at Gilbert in surprise, a light pink flush coloring his cheeks.

"Gilbert, what...?"

"I love you, okay?" Gilbert rolled his eyes and looked off to the side. He sighed. "It's weird for me to say, but whatever. I love you, Roddy." He glanced back at Roderich, scarlet eyes meeting violet.

Roderich, still taken aback, stared. "I...well, thank you, Gilbert." He relaxed his grip on Gilbert's neck. "I never expected that from you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," muttered Gilbert. "I'm more of a physical person." He confirmed it, leaning in to kiss Roderich once more.

Roderich pushed him away. "Evidently you are. We have sex more than we talk." He rolled his violet eyes.

"And we fight more than we have sex!" added the Prussian gleefully.

"It's only been a month," Roderich sighed glumly.

Gilbert shrugged. "I waited three centuries for you, you could at least let me have a little fun every so often. Plus, Roddy, you can't play coy for so long. I know you like everything I do."

"Besides the blanket-stealing, maybe I do. Maybe." Roderich cracked a small grin.

"Right there! There's my prissy boyfriend!" Gilbert cackled maniacally and kissed Roderich, harder this time, and pulled him closer.

This kiss, however, was short-lived.

"Ah-hem."

The sound caused Roderich to break away instantly and look towards the door, but Gilbert didn't seem to care about the intruder.

"L-Ludwig!" Roderich flushed slightly.

The stoic, blonde German looked to the side, slightly embarrassed and horribly uncomfortable. "Ah...guten Morgen, Roderich...Gilbert..."

"West!" cheered the Prussian, sitting up happily and waving at his younger brother. "How ya doin', buddy?"

Ludwig massaged his temples with his fingers. "Gilbert, we went over this. You're both allowed to sleep here as long as you don't make any noise." He closed his eyes, hoping that he wouldn't obtain another headache at the hands of his brother.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, West. Roddy screamed like a little girl last night. Blame him."

Roderich turned to him angrily, his face nearly purple. "Shut up, you ignorant, foul, uncivilized..."

The pair began to bicker loudly once more, and Ludwig winced. His head began to throb in warning, and he knew that he'd have a headache for the rest of the day. He turned from thedoorway in defeat, wishing that he hadn't allowed the couple to sleep in Gilbert's room, across the hall from his own bedroom, as he headed back down the hallway.

I hope you all enjoyed. Thank you very much for reading and reviewing! c:


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